Family (The Sequel to Surprises)
by stayathomemum
Summary: Sequel to the story Surprises. Several months have passed since Surprises ended. This is the continuation . . .
1. Intro

**Chapter 1**

Eleven month old Rose Micelli was determined to walk. Crawling just wasn't doing it for the rambunctious toddler anymore. With a sense of resolve, she lunged for the edge of the coffee table and steadied herself against the solid wood. With sticky, chubby fingers she held onto the table's edge for dear life as she pulled herself to a full standing position. "Daaagaaaa!" she proudly yelled out, her four-toothed smile wide and happy. Rose basked in her parents' approving gaze before making another bold move. This time, she took one step away from the table and fell hard on her bum with a loud thud. "Maaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaaa", she cried.

"You're alright. You're fine Rose. Mommy is so proud of you", Angela cooed as she waddled over to her fiery haired toddler. Rose's shrieking calmed down as her heavily pregnant mother knelt beside her and cuddled her tightly against her enormous belly.

"Ay-Oh, look at this kid Angela! She's gonna be walking by summer. That bit of clumsiness-it'll be gone by then", Tony declared.

"She's not clumsy, Tony. She's not even a year old. Jonathan didn't walk until he was fifteen months. I think Rose is doing very well. And she's ever so bright too!" Angela was proud of Rose.

"She's definitely bright, Angela. Not sayin' she isn't. I mean seeing her with those animal puzzles—it's somethin' alright! It's just that at this age, Samantha was a bit more, er, coordinated. That's all. So maybe Rose will be an intellectual and not a jock. She's a lot like you. Other than that red mop on her head, she's an exact copy of you!" Tony scooped his daughter off the floor and lifted her up high. Rose giggled with delight before squirming to come down. She wanted to master this walking thing.

"Okay Rose, down you go. Man, this baby knows what she wants!" Tony exclaimed as he put the toddler back down.

"Tony, I'm having such trouble catching her when she's crawling. I can barely keep up with her. And when the new baby arrives, I don't know how I'm going to do it." Stress and worry crept into Angela's voice despite her attempt to remain calm. Back-to-back babies had indeed been a surprise. In fact, the previous two years' volcanic explosion of unanticipated events had nearly torn their family apart. Angela ruminated on how her current surprise pregnancy was merely icing on the cake of insanity that had become their lives. Beginning with her unplanned pregnancy of Rose by ex-boyfriend Andy, the subsequent happenings had thrown the Bower/Micelli clan into chaos and uncertainty.

Thankfully, Tony had offered to be Rose's father when Andy had cruelly rejected Angela and the baby. So while the year had been rough, bright spots had shone through the dark times. Tony and Angela found joy in finally marrying after seven years of unrequited love. They knew their love was strong; in fact it was so solid that it had resisted being torn apart when drama between Samantha and Jonathan almost engulfed everything and everybody in its path. But Angela knew that the love she shared with Tony was the glue that held them together as they navigated the storm created by their children.

Jonathan had harboured a secret crush on Sam for years; a revelation that resulted in the boy being sent to live with his father in California. During that time, Samantha's confidence and mood had suffered a crippling blow when her fiancé Matt dumped her. While apart, the children had continued corresponding by letter, creating a new stronger friendship. Jon matured quickly in California, becoming a strong and handsome young man. And when a depressed Samantha travelled to California to aid in his recovery after a concussion, she reciprocated his romantic feelings. This surprising turn of events occurred right before Tony and Angela's wedding.

The two teenagers had tried to keep their romance a secret from their parents but they were eventually found out during Michael Bower's memorial service. Jonathan's grief over the death of his father catapulted his relationship with Samantha into dangerous territory for step-siblings. Tony's hot-headed reaction had been to throw his daughter out of the house. So, after a forced break-up and plenty of counseling, it was determined that Sam and Jon would stay apart for four years; the length of Sam's nursing school program in Dublin. Jonathan was now in pre-med at Harvard so the kids hadn't seen each other in months—not since Samantha's departure for Ireland.

And now, Sam was returning to Connecticut to be Angela's labour coach once again. Sam was a natural, having helped deliver Rose with courage and finding her passion and career goals as a result of that incredible experience.

"Don't worry Angela", Tony reassured her. His voice broke her out of her reminiscing about the past two years. "Sam's coming home today! She's going to be here until her classes start up again in the fall. We're going to have her here for months, so relax and let her chase after Rose."

"I'm so happy that she's coming home for a few months, Tony. I've missed her so much. And I'm also relieved that she's making it in time for the delivery. It means the world to me to have her attend me during the birth. She was a godsend when Rose was born", Angela said.

"No kiddin', Angela. I'm glad she was there too 'cause I was really, um, uncomfortable", Tony admitted sheepishly.

"Really? I never would have guessed", she teased him. "Not from the way you tore out of that room or from the frozen way you stood by looking terrified! All kidding aside though, if it's too much for you to handle this time, I'll be fine with Samantha."

"Nuh-uh. No way am I missing out on the birth of my son. I want to be there for the big moment, Angela!" Tony declared with machismo and pride.

"Son?"

"Well, we had a girl the last time . . . I can hope, can't I?"

"I don't know what we're having Tony. At this point, I just hope it's born healthy and soon!" Angela said as she walked over to her husband. "Honey, I'm just so happy that this baby will be a bit of you and a bit of me. I never thought this would happen for us. And even though the timing was terrible, I can't wait to meet our child. Ooooh Tony", Angela gushed feeling suddenly very emotional.

"Oh, here come the waterworks. Come here Sweetheart", Tony held his arms out to Angela and wrapped them securely around her back as she snuggled against him, her huge belly protruding.

"Tony?"

"What is it, Angela?" Tony knew his wife well enough to recognize the apprehension in her voice even when she tried to hide it.

"I guess . . . I guess I'm just a bit worried about the kids. You know how excited I am to see Sam again but how do you think it'll be when Jonathan comes home for a visit? Do you think they'll be able to handle it? They promised to wait the four years, Tony. What if they can't?"

"Well they'd better, Angela! 'Cause if they don't, they'll have to deal with me."


	2. Homecoming

**Chapter 2**

Samantha returned home feeling both apprehensive and excited. She couldn't wait to see baby Rose, Dad and Angela. And attending Angela at her upcoming delivery thrilled her tremendously. Now that she had two full semesters of nursing school under her belt, she was confident about her role in the delivery room. She remembered Rose's birth fondly and looked forward to doing it all over again. Maybe Sally, the craggy old nurse who had encouraged her towards a nursing career would be there again. Sam also relished having some time away from her studies; the curriculum was intense and difficult. The biology and physiology classes weren't her forte and she found herself needing a lot of time to study. Despite the pressure though, she had found time to party. It was Dublin after all . . . she'd even spotted Bono from a distance.

And she'd met somebody. She hadn't intended to—she knew that Jon was waiting for her but the unexpected arrival of Kevin into her life had thrown a fierce curve ball in her plans. Kevin . . . tall, dark and smoldering was a bartender at _The Frog_ near campus. With his musical Irish lilt and hypnotizing shamrock green eyes, he'd mesmerized Sam from the start. He'd made no secret of his interest in her and had blatantly pursued her until he'd crashed through her resistance. To him, she was exotic, American, different from the local girls. He liked her Italian fire, dark eyes and bright smile; their attraction was physical and explosive like fireworks for all to see. Kevin was attentive, sexy and passionate. But his quick trigger anger and jealousy made Samantha uneasy. She also felt guilty about Jon because she still loved him but it was all **_so_** complicated. Being with Kevin was acceptable and she didn't need to explain it to anybody. Nobody was upset and it wouldn't throw her entire family into hours of therapy either. Samantha wanted easy. She knew that a four year wait for Jon meant sitting around in her dorm room while her classmates partied without her. So Kevin it was. At least Dad and Angela would be happy about it, but she was nervous about seeing Jon again. He'd be so hurt and disappointed in her. But hadn't he told her he'd always be her friend, even if she dated others? And in all probability, he'd started dating too. Yes, that would make sense, she convinced herself, feeling the guilt evaporating with that thought.

Besides, she had other things to think about. Angela was due to give birth any second now. Sam had been so worried about not making it home in time but the baby was still hanging in there, seemingly waiting for its big sister to come and help deliver it into the world. Samantha stretched out on her childhood bed, thrilled to be back in her own room. She'd missed being home and now that Jonathan was away at college, she was allowed to live at the house. She knew the rules; they couldn't both stay here at the same time. When Jon came home to visit, Sam would probably be sent to Mona's again. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, falling into a deep, jet-lagged sleep.

XXXXXXX

"Wake up! Sam? Wake up! It's time!" Tony tried to shake his daughter awake but she continued to snore. He felt badly about the timing—she'd only arrived from Ireland a few hours ago but Angela was in labour and needed her delivery couch now.

At first it seemed to Samantha that her father's voice was coming from a great distance but it gradually became louder, rousing her out of the deep sleep she'd eagerly embraced after her exhausting journey across the Atlantic. The urgency in his voice cleared the remnants of foggy sleep from her head.

"Is it Angela?" she asked as a loud yawn escaped her.

"Yes, her water broke while we were sleeping and now she's having really bad contractions . . . we have to go now!" Tony sounded very anxious.

Sam sat up and rubbed her eyes hard. Adrenaline was coursing through her bloodstream, more effective than caffeine. With a jolt, she ran to Angela's room to check on her.

"Angela? Did you time the contractions?" Samantha was so much more knowledgeable about birth this time around. With her additional understanding of anatomy, she felt calm taking control now. She confidently walked over to Angela and began timing the contractions.

"They're coming fast Sam. I haven't timed them but they're close. And . . .", Angela chewed her lip apprehensively.

"And what? What is it?" Samantha felt that something was off.

"I'm bleeding- a lot. It didn't happen like that with my other deliveries." Angela twisted her fingers into a knot and clenched her teeth. Her skin was pale and lightly beaded with sweat. She did not look well at all.

Samantha's heart began to pound. Heavy bleeding during delivery wasn't a good thing. But she needed to reassure Angela and follow proper procedure, not freak out.

"Angela, I'm going to check you and we're going straight to the hospital. Dad, call Mona to watch Rose, then call an ambulance", she ordered.

"An ambulance? But I can drive her!" Tony protested.

"No Dad. An ambulance. Now! There's a complication!" Samantha shouted to her father as she tended to Angela. She took a deep breath but the alarm in her voice had unsettled both Tony and Angela. She needed to remain calm but upon seeing the amount of blood that Angela had lost, Samantha panicked. She grabbed some towels to soak up the blood and tried to reassure Angela. She suspected a placental abruption and knew that both Angela's and the baby's lives were in danger.

"Angela? I want you to remain calm, okay. But this bleeding isn't normal . . . you're going to require an emergency C-section when we get to the hospital. I think that your placenta has become detached from the uterine wall and . . . and . . . we just need to get you to the hospital right now!"

"What are you sayin' Sam? Is this dangerous?" Tony asked in horror.

"Yeah Dad! Oh God, when is that ambulance going to be here? Hurry, please God make them hurry!" Sam prayed out loud while continuing to monitor the amount of blood loss. Her stomach churned and she almost passed out herself when Angela suddenly slumped over, the colour completely drained from her face.

"Oh no, Angela?!" she screamed. Samantha checked for a pulse, not finding it at first. When she finally located it, the weak and thready pulse was slowing down. Tony was at his wife's side trying to wake her but Angela was in a dead faint, the blood gushing out of her at an alarming rate. The next moments of frenzied activity moved in agonizing slow motion for Angela's loved ones; the paramedics arrived looking grim as they hoisted her onto the gurney. An oxygen mask was placed over Angela's nose and mouth just as Mona entered the room. She saw her daughter's grey face and the bloodied towels strewn all over the bedroom floor and staggered back in shock.

"What's happened?" she cried.

"Excuse me ma'am", the paramedic exclaimed as he pushed past Mona. They practically ran down the stairs with their patient while Samantha frantically tried to explain that she suspected a placental abruption. But Tony and Sam didn't have time to comfort Mona—they ran into the ambulance and prayed all the way to the hospital.


	3. One step from the edge

**Chapter 3**

Angela was floating above herself, looking down at her body on the ambulance gurney. She wondered what she was doing on the ambulance's ceiling and tried to get Tony's attention. "I'm up here Tony!" she cried. He didn't hear her and was bent over her body on the gurney—her bleeding self, her dying self. To say that Angela felt confused would be a gross understatement, yet even in her bizarre predicament, she felt serene. A calming presence soothed her and she felt warm, safe and loved where she was. Angela peered down at her hugely pregnant body, now colourless and cold. The paramedics were frantically working on her while Tony and Samantha looked on in shock.

"She's not breathing", one of the paramedic shouted. "What's our ETA?"

The driver yelled back, "ETA four minutes. Dr. Goldstein is ready for her."

"She's not going to make it . . . I'm losing her! Hurry!"

Tony and Samantha were crying, each holding one of _dying Angela's_ hands. "You can't leave me, Angela! You just can't. Rose and the new baby need you. I need you. Sweetheart, please . . . please stay with me", Tony pleaded and wept beside her.

Forgetting that he couldn't hear her, she tried to reassure him. "I'm right here, Tony. I'll never leave you. I love you so much." She tried to touch his shoulder but her hand passed right through him. Angela needed to decide right now. She could feel the pull of the warm light beckoning to her; it was so welcoming and there was so much love. The strong light gradually began to swirl around her, transforming into a whirling vortex, slowly lapping at her head and shoulders but she wasn't ready. Not yet. "Wait!" she screamed. She hovered over herself and focused all of her energy on her dying body, trying to command it with her thoughts. "Breathe . . . come on breathe . . . move that finger . . . move that index finger . . . the one in Tony's hand . . . move it!" She willed her body to respond; the baby within needed her to stay alive but the bright vortex was caressing her, calling her.

In an instant, Angela was pulled away from her body and sucked right out of the ambulance. She found herself inside a tunnel of light facing her father. She ran to embrace him but encountered a barrier. "Daddy?" she called out to him.

"Hello my Beauty", he answered, his voice strong and healthy. He looked young again and so handsome. Angela tried to touch him but once again ran into an invisible obstacle, like a force field.

"Not yet Angela. It's not your time. You have to go back. I wanted to warn you that it won't be easy-the going back. But your children need you. Your husband needs you. They all love you so much and they've been praying non-stop for you since you collapsed. The strength of their love and their prayers are being heard. You're being sent back now."

Before Angela could respond, she felt herself being shot backwards at infinite velocity and sucked into the speeding ambulance. She slipped back into herself with an audible whoosh, no longer light and free. She felt heavy, weak, and ever so cold.

"I've got a pulse!" the paramedic shouted with relief. "Thought we'd lost her for good . . . her heart had stopped."

"Oh my God!" Tony gasped in shock. "Is she gonna be okay? I can't lose her …"

The paramedic cut him off, "I got her heart started again but she's still hemorrhaging and I won't make any promises. You should hope for the best but prepare for the worst. Is there family for you to call?" He fixed Tony with sombre eyes, wanting him to understand that his wife was certainly not out of the woods, not by a long shot.

Tony looked over at Samantha through tear filled eyes. He couldn't lose another wife and Sam couldn't lose another mother.

"Dad?" Sam looked as petrified and lost as Tony. She put a hand on his arm to reassure him but her tears of distress belied her action. "We need to call Mona and tell her to come to the hospital . . . and Jonathan too." Sam swallowed hard—she hadn't been expecting to see him so soon, nor under such dire circumstances. Tony nodded, half-listening to her but mostly focused on his wife. Angela was a whiter shade of pale and hadn't regained consciousness. He tenderly cupped her cold face in his warm palms and kissed her forehead. "Please stay with me. Please don't die. You can't die Angela . . . you just can't!" Tony's hot tears fell onto Angela's cheeks and he kissed her icy lips before the paramedic abruptly opened the ambulance doors and started moving the gurney.

"We're bringing your wife straight to delivery; there's an OR waiting for her. You can't come in with her but Dr. Goldstein will apprise you of her progress. He's going to deliver the baby right now by Caesarian section."

"But . . . but . . . but" Tony began to protest. "I wanna stay with her!"

"I'm sorry sir. Your wife needs emergency surgery and several blood transfusions. They have to stabilize her and deliver the baby. Please wait in the designated area.

XXXXXXXXX

Jonathan Bower had never before made the drive from Boston to Connecticut in under two hours. Tonight, he made it in ninety minutes driving well over the speed limit the entire way. Grandma's urgent call to meet the family at Fairfield General had interrupted his late study session. She hadn't told him much except to say that there was a complication with the baby's arrival and that his mom's life was in danger. Panicked, he'd thrown a few things into a bag and torn out of the Harvard campus like a lunatic.

He arrived at the hospital parking lot sweaty and shaky . . . would his mom be okay? It hadn't occurred to him that this pregnancy could be dangerous. Everything had gone so smoothly with Rose and he'd assumed a repeat performance for the new baby. He charged through the hospital doors confusedly heading towards the cancer clinic. Then he stopped to read the signs but the letters were jumbled and he couldn't figure out where to go. He stood frozen in the hospital corridor wanting to cry and desperately needing to find a bathroom. And to know that his mother was still alive.

"Jon?" He heard his name being called and jerked around at the sound of her voice. She stood a few feet away from him looking just as scared as he. He gasped at the sight of her; she was wearing pale blue pyjamas covered in strange red blotches. Blood, he realized. She had it on her face, her hands and arms too. She was literally covered in blood.

"Sam, that blood . . . is it my mom's?" he asked, horrified.

She didn't answer him but dissolved into tears instead. "She lost so much blood. She died in the ambulance and . . ."

"What! She's dead? Nooooooo!" he screamed. He couldn't lose another parent. He had just lost his father less than a year ago.

"No, no, Jon, no. They revived her. She _was_ dead but they brought her back after a full minute!" She waited for it to sink in but he was already huddled on the floor, against the wall. He'd been in that exact same grief position when she's broken up with him and left him leaning against the garage wall. It was a horrible déjà vu. She knelt beside him and put her arms around him, repeating her words. "She was resuscitated. Your mom is alive. She just lost a lot of blood so they gave her several blood transfusions. She's going to be okay. She's going to be okay. Do you hear me, Jon? Do you?"

He nodded against her but didn't let go. Together, they remained balled together on the hospital floor, oblivious to the busy foot traffic all around them. She stroked his short blond hair and cupped his neck while softly whispering reassurances to him. As the shock began to wear off, he slowly lifted his head and fixed her with steady golden eyes. She held his gaze and stroked his cheek.

"Hey", she whispered to him, "we have a brand new baby sister. She's in the NICU . . . they're keeping her under observation because of her traumatic birth. Do you want to see her?" Samantha disentangled herself from his arms and slowly stood up. She held out her hand to him and helped him up. "This way", she said as she led him to meet the newest member of their family.

Jonathan held Samantha's hand as though clinging to a buoy. He let her lead him, blindly following her. He only wanted to see his mother and didn't much care about the baby at this point.

"I need to pee", he blurted out. "And you need to wash that blood off of your face. Come on Sam, let's find a bathroom first." He was finally regaining his senses, albeit very slowly. Still holding Sam's hand, he changed direction and led them inside a single stall bathroom off the corridor. Their old intimacy was still there despite months of separation. No words were needed—she turned around to give him privacy and furiously began scrubbing her face and arms at the sink. The sickening smell of pink, hospital issue soap would forever remind her of blood.

"You've got some in your hair too", he stated over the sound of the flushing toilet. He held a lock of her long brown hair and showed her the dried blood. "Here, let me help you Samantha." He lathered his hands and gently applied them to her hair, then wiped it with wet paper towels.

He stood back to look at her. "You're clean now. My god Sam . . . how did you get so much blood on you?" he was afraid to ask but also wanted to know what had happened.

Sam started to answer but couldn't keep the tremble out of her voice. "She had a placental abruption-I was monitoring the bleeding and told Dad to call an ambulance. There was just so much blood. I thought we were going to lose her . . . and when her heart stopped in the ambulance, it was the longest, scariest minute of my life. Oh Jon!" Sam began to cry, her legs going weak from the intense rollercoaster of emotions. Jon put his arms around the petite brunette and held her tightly in the confines of the tiny hospital bathroom. He stroked her long, unruly damp hair and kissed the top of her head as she cried against him. When Samantha's crying subsided, she pulled away from him and opened the door. "Let's go see the new baby. And let's find out if Angela's awake yet. Come on."


	4. A victorious arrival

**Chapter 4**

Angela was finally beginning to come around. She slowly opened her eyes and licked her parched lips. She was drowsy and warm but sensed that something important had occurred while she was asleep so she forced her eyelids to remain open and looked around the hospital room in confusion. "Where …?" she began to ask.

"Hey, you're awake. Halleluiah, thank you God!" Tony proclaimed loudly while grasping his wife's hand in his. He'd been waiting for her to wake up for hours now and was getting quite worried despite the doctors' reassurances that Angela would be alright.

Angela looked up into her husband's loving eyes and felt her worry melt away for a moment. Then she glanced down at her flatter belly and became frightened. "Where's the baby? Tony?" She put her hand to her soft abdomen in shock, frantically searching for the baby.

"Shhhh, calm down. It's okay Angela. The baby is fine—they ran tests on her and she's alright. You had an emergency C-section because of an aprup . . .abrup . . . something", he told her. Samantha saved your life! If I hadn't called the ambulance when she told me to, you would have bled to death.

Memories of floating above her own body and of seeing her father in a tunnel of light suddenly returned to Angela in full force. She wanted to tell Tony about her incredible experience but first she wanted to see her baby.

"Where's the baby? I want to see her."

"Hold on, Angela. No, don't sit up yet. Let me get the doctor first, okay?" Tony gently nudged her back into a lying down position when she tried to get up. "I'll be right back . . . please don't move Angela. Just gettin' the doc, alright? I'll be back in a minute", he reassured her once again. As Tony exited her room, he noticed Samantha and Jonathan coming down the corridor toward him. They both looked scared and worried, hands fused together for strength. At least he hoped that was the reason; Tony really wasn't in the mood for a repeat of last year's 'forbidden romance' between those two. They'd caused him enough sleepless nights as it was.

"Is she awake yet?" Samantha asked him softly. She was afraid of the answer and almost cringed as she waited for her father to speak. Suddenly self-conscious, she slid her hand out of Jon's and wiped her sweaty palm on her pyjama pants.

"She's awake and she wants to see the baby. I'm gettin' the doctor-you two stay with her! I also have to get Mona—she's in the maternity lounge with Rose." Tony left the kids and went in search of the doctor. Samantha quietly opened the door to Angela's room and entered without making any sound. Jonathan was at her heels, less worried about not making noise. He simply wanted to make sure that his mom was alive and well and to see her with his own eyes.

"Mom!" he cried out to her. Angela raised her head and smiled when she saw her son and Sam entering the room.

"Hey you guys. Any news on the baby?"

"I . . . we don't know. We came straight to you, Mom. Are you alright?" Jonathan came right up to his mother and squeezed her hand-it was so cold to the touch and she was ever so pale.

"I'm fine Sweetheart. And I believe that I owe a lot of that to you, Sam. Your dad told me that you saved my life. Thank you Honey." Angela sat up slightly to look at the dishevelled girl. She flinched at the sight of her own blood staining Sam's pyjamas, remembering her horrible hemorrhage. Jon turned around to look at Sam and gave her a grateful smile that made her heart skip. "Thanks Sam", he whispered to her. She blushed and turned away to look at Angela.

"Oh, Angela, I'm so glad you're going to be okay. _I _didn't save your life—the paramedics and doctors did. I just told Dad to call an ambulance and tried to stop the bleeding but I couldn't." Sam had to hold her tears in check again. She was rather emotional and completely exhausted. As if a transatlantic flight wasn't enough, no sleep for over 24 hours combined with Angela's medical emergency and near death were simply overwhelming. Then to run into Jon unexpectedly had simply added to the intensity of distressing events. She felt as though she was running toward a cliff and there was no barrier. If she ran too fast, she'd simply overshoot and fall in. She needed to steady her nerves.

"Sam, if it wasn't for you, I'd have been dead before the paramedics or doctors could have gotten to me. Again, thank you Sweetheart." Angela sat up against Tony's orders and grasped Sam's hand with her free one. She was so grateful for her grown children; one by blood and one by love. And now she was anxious to meet her baby.

"Mrs. Micelli, how are you feeling?" Dr. Goldstein entered Angela's hospital room to check on his patient, Tony in tow. The balding, aging physician had a no-nonsense bedside manner. He was quick, efficient and had saved both Angela's and the baby's lives in the OR. He brusquely cleared the children away from the bed with an impatient sweep of his arm and tended to Angela, checking her vitals.

"I'm feeling better, thank you. How's my baby? Is she okay?" Angela was entirely focused on the health of her newborn.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to check you out first", the doctor responded dispassionately.

"Wait . . . please, is she okay?" Angela turned away from the doctor when he tried to take her pulse. "Please, I just want to see my baby!"

"Your baby is fine. She's in the NICU under observation. You can see her after I've cleared _you_ Mrs. Micelli." Dr. Goldstein was becoming impatient with his patient.

"NICU?" Angela croaked.

"Uh Doc?" Tony interrupted. "You're not gonna get anywhere until you let my wife see our baby." Tony knew that Angela would always put the children's needs ahead of her own. There was no way she'd let the doctor examine her while the fate of her baby remained unknown to her.

Sighing in exasperation, the doctor nodded while quickly taking Angela's pulse and blood pressure. "Yes, yes, I'm going to let you see your baby but first I want to make sure you don't faint on the way. Do you understand?" Dr. Goldstein paused while he looked at her stats. "You're good to go-in a wheelchair. No standing please. I'll give you a more complete examination later; remember you have stitches from the C-section." The doctor shook his head, sighed loudly and made his displeasure known to the entire room.

Samantha quickly went in search of a wheelchair, easily locating one at the nurse's station. She wheeled it into Angela's room and parked it beside the hospital bed. "Carefully, careful . . . Dad, lift her into the chair . . . are you okay Angela?"

Angela let out a small gasp of pain but reassured Samantha and the others. "I'm fine. Now, to my baby please." Tony took control of the wheelchair and carefully maneuvered it out of the room and down the hallway to the NICU. They located Mona in the mother's lounge and beckoned to her as they made their way to see the newest member of the Micelli family.

Rose was asleep in her stroller and oblivious to the goings-on around her. Side by side, stroller and wheelchair made their way across the maternity ward. Angela was anxious—having a near death experience and a new baby on the same day topped pretty much anything else she'd ever been through. She only wanted her baby to be okay.

"Here we are", Tony announced as he brought the chair right up to the NICU window. He waved to the neonatal nurse inside and motioned to her. She smiled at him in recognition and wheeled the incubator towards the window. Baby Girl Micelli was swaddled in a pink blanket and looked perfectly healthy—her tubes and monitors had been removed. The nurse opened the door and carried the baby to her parents.

"Congratulations Mrs. Micelli", she said with a big smile. "We're transferring your baby to the regular nursery. She's perfectly healthy. Seven pounds, three ounces." The nurse held the baby out to her mother and gently placed her in Angela's arms. Angela peered down at her newest little girl. She didn't look anything like Rose at all. This baby had dark hair, a full mouth and a wider face. She looked quite a bit like Tony.

"Tony, she's so beautiful. She looks like her daddy", Angela sniffled, her brain suddenly awash in oxytocin—the bonding hormone. "Hi there—we had a bumpy ride but I'm so glad you're okay. I love you little one", Angela whispered to her baby.

Samantha, Jonathan and Mona all crowded in to have a better look at the newest addition to their family. "Aw, she's really cute", Sam cooed. While not yet interested in having children of her own, babies did have a certain ability to tug on her heartstrings. Mona carefully lifted her new grandchild out of her daughter's arms.

"She does look like Tony but she has something of Jonathan too", she observed.

"Really? Because I thought she looked like Samantha", Tony stated.

"Well if Samantha and Jonathan were to have a baby together one day, I suppose it would look a lot like this one", Mona blurted out without thinking. Jonathan looked at Sam with a wide grin on his face. "You hear that Sam?" he chuckled.

"Mona!" Tony growled.

"Mona!" Sam simultaneously chided her. "You can't say stuff like that—we broke up, remember?" Sam was embarrassed and felt guilty about Kevin. She would eventually have to tell Jon about her new boyfriend. But for now, avoiding his lovelorn gaze would have to suffice. She needed to convince him that it was over. Heck, she needed to convince _herself_-his smile and golden gaze still held her captive and she couldn't help but flush every time he looked at her affectionately. Her summer stay in Connecticut wasn't going to be easy at all.

"One day Sam . . . after the four year wait . . . maybe?" Jon sounded so hopeful. He wasn't disguising his feelings one bit. Sam bit her lip and looked away from his questioning scrutiny. Her heart hammered in her chest and she took a deep breath to steady herself.

"No, no, no, don't you two even talk about this stuff right now", Tony grumbled. He didn't want anything to steal away his joy about the new baby. He looked over at Angela and quickly changed the subject. "We need a name for her Angela. Any ideas?"

"Oh, uh . . . I was thinking Simon", she said sheepishly.

"I dunno Angela. A girl named Simon?" Tony shook his head vehemently.

"No silly. I know you were hoping for a boy. I hope you're not disappointed", she looked up at him slightly apprehensive.

"Disappointed? Disappointed? No! Of course not, Sweetheart. You almost died. I'm just so happy to have a baby with you and that you're here to raise her with me. I could never be disappointed. Angela, she's perfect. Ay-oh . . . I love you." Tony reminded her while kneeling down to her level. His looked at her tenderly and lightly grazed her lips with his own. "And in lookin' at her, I fall in love with you over and over again. All girls... can't say I'm complainin'. And it all started with you." He eyed Samantha with pride.

"Mom would have been proud of you Dad", Sam mused.

"So not Simon. Any other ideas?" Angela indicated to her mother that she wanted her baby back in her own arms. Mona handed her back the baby and watched as her daughter became all misty-eyed over the mewling newborn.

Angela deliberated aloud. "A name . . . a name . . . I simply don't have one. I'm so relieved that she and I survived the delivery. That was quite a victory in itself. I'm too tired to think right now."

"That's it!" Tony exclaimed suddenly inspired.

"What's it?" Angela gave him a blank stare.

"Victory. You and the baby emerged from near death victoriously. That's her name." Tony smiled, happy with his decision.

"Tony, I am not naming a baby Victory", Angela stated. "It's not even a real name."

"Not Victory, Angela . . . Victoria. How about we name her Victoria?"

"I like that", Mona said, nodding enthusiastically. "Such a pretty name."

Angela looked at up Tony, suddenly thoughtful. "Tony, us having this baby was a victory in so many more ways than surviving a delivery. You and me . . . I didn't always know that we'd be together—I mean, for years I hoped and I loved you but it didn't always seem that we'd make it. That we're here today with a mini-me and a half-pint you . . . it _is_ a victory. Love won out, Tony. Our love was stronger than all the storms we weathered together. Yes, her name is Victoria. Victoria Marie in honor of your mother Samantha . . . because I want some of her to live on in your baby sister. Without Marie, I wouldn't have either of you. I'm so very thankful."

**More to come! **


	5. Too Good Pond, redux

**Chapter 5**

"Angela and Victoria are finally coming home today", Tony happily declared to Samantha. His wife and new baby had spent five days in the hospital and were finally being released this afternoon. He was elated.

"That's great Dad! What can I do to help?" Samantha had primarily been taking care of Rose during Angela's hospital stay, since Tony was spending so much time visiting his wife and newborn.

"Hey, maybe we should get a welcome banner, balloons, some cake and …" Tony began but stopped himself. Was that really what Angela needed at the moment? She was recovering from major surgery, severe blood loss and five transfusions. And she was having trouble with nursing this time around. Her body had gone through too profound a shock, it seemed.

"Dad? I know you're really happy to have them home but a party probably isn't the best way to go", Sam informed him as diplomatically as she could.

"Alright Sam, so what is _the best way to go_?" Tony challenged her. He wanted some good ideas on how to make his wife feel most comfortable.

Sam put a finger to her lips and thought about her father's question for a moment before answering. "I think it would be best if you, Angela and the baby have the house to yourselves for a few hours. I can take Rose out. That way, Angela can settle in without worrying about this Tasmanian toddler underfoot, screeching for attention." Sam scooped Rose up into her arms seconds before the boisterous baby crashed into the coffee table. Watching Rose was an exercise in vigilance, speed and endurance.

"Yeah Sam? You'd do that? Where would go you?"

"I can take her to _Too Good Pond_, Dad." Samantha could anticipate the worried questions forming in her dad's brain, so she intercepted them before he could voice them. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll keep a very close eye on Rose. I'll keep her in her stroller. It's a beautiful spring day and we want some fresh air." That decided, she went to pack a diaper bag for her sister.

"You make sure she stays in that stroller. That kid is a tornado, aren't you Rosie?" Tony leaned over and kissed the fiery-haired toddler on her sticky cheek. "Kid needs a wipe down too, Sam. Oh and Sam? Remember, Jonathan is coming home for the weekend tonight. You gonna sleep at Mona's?" It was more an order than a question.

Samantha tilted her head slightly while looking at her father. "Dad, if I sleep at Mona's, who is going to look after Rose? Besides, I have a boyfriend now. Jonathan and I aren't going to do anything."

Tony took a deep sigh, unsure how to proceed. "But Sam, the house rules are …"

"I know what the house rules are, Dad. I know we were wrong to have sex in the house last year. I know it! But it's not going to happen again. Can't you trust me now? I'm with Kevin." Sam didn't want to sleep at Mona's. She was comfortable where she was, close to Rose, close to the new baby and able to check on Angela.

"Sam, trust needs to be earned. But . . . but I suppose you two aren't going back there again. You'd better not! You know he still has feelings for you, don't you? The kid is all googly eyed around you."

"Yeah Dad, I know", she sighed. "But I promise you we will not be having sex. Okay? I swear." Sam didn't know what else she could say to persuade her father. She had matured in the past year—she wasn't going to jeopardize her relationship with him or Angela. And she feared that Kevin would know if she stepped out on him. And that wouldn't be pretty . . . not one bit. She cringed at the thought of Kevin's reaction if she ever strayed and it frightened her. He was so intense, so easily jealous and so prone to throwing objects against the wall. His passion was sexy but also chilling.

"Alright Sam. It'll be easier for Angela if you're in the house to help out with the babies. But one wrong move and you're out."

XXXX

Samantha pushed Rose's stroller over the dirt path that circled the large pond. It was a clear cloudless day with the sweet scent of forsythia and apple blossoms in the air. She inhaled deeply and paused to admire the sun's reflection on the deep blue water.

"Look Rosie, isn't this lovely? I used to come here with your Mommy, Daddy and Jonathan when I was little. See that tree over there?" Sam pointed to a large tree that was forked at the bottom. Large branches shot out in every which direction, creating a natural playground of sorts. "I used to climb that tree every single time. When you're older, I know you'll be doing the same", she cooed to her little sister. Rose responded with an enthusiastic, "agggahhh" and pointed to the tree before trying to launch herself free of her stroller.

"No Rose, you have to stay in your stroller", Sam told the toddler, hoping she could understand her. She began pushing the stroller a little faster, making her way over to the water's edge. "Look Rosie . . . look at the duckie! See the duckie? Quack, quack."

Rose did not want to stay in her stroller and began to struggle vigorously against the confining seatbelt. "Waaaa, aagheeee, uuuuhh, muuhh", she began to wail. Samantha tried to distract her, intent on getting Rose to calm down. Dad and Angela needed some alone time as they brought home baby Victoria. She didn't want to intrude on their privacy right now. But letting Rose out of her stroller this close to water was definitely a bad idea. Rose could crawl faster than a cheetah on speed. And she was fearless; smashing everything in her path, heedless of obstacles, danger or her own limitations.

"Rose! Look at the birdy", Sam pointed to the sky. But Rose was shrieking and not listening. She wanted to grab the ducks and geese near the water's edge.

"Damn", Sam swore softly under her breath. This was going to be a fun afternoon.

"That baby is gearing up for take-off", a familiar voice broke through Rose's wails.

"Whaaaa?" Sam spun around. Jonathan was walking toward her, an amused smile on his face.

"Hi", he said.

"Jon! What are you doing here?" Samantha was stunned to suddenly see him standing there. He was wearing jeans and a burgundy Harvard hoodie, making quite the portrait of a handsome college co-ed.

"I'm . . . uh . . . well I come here to remember my Dad. Just thought I'd make a stop on my way home. I was heading towards the stream where I scattered his ashes when I heard Rose crying. Her voice carries across the lake", he joked. Rose looked up at her big brother and abruptly stopped crying. She gave him a four-toothed grin and suddenly became shy, hiding behind her stuffed elephant.

"Oh." Sam looked at her feet, unsure what to say next. "Your Dad? How are you doing with all of that?" She looked at him, trying to assess his state of mind. Jonathan had had a particularly difficult time after Michael's death. He'd felt guilty for assuming that his father had abandoned him when in fact, Michael Bower's body had lain undiscovered for weeks at the bottom of a precipice in Peru.

"I'm doing better now but it wasn't easy. Sam, why didn't you even call me after you left? I wasn't doing so great with any of it! The breakup, you leaving, grieving my father . . . why didn't you just call me? Just once?" Jon's voice cracked with emotion as he confronted her. She'd simply abandoned him.

"I . . . I'm sorry Jon. It was so crazy when I arrived in Dublin and school started right away. And . . . and …" she trailed off not wanting to tell him the real reason. Tony and Angela had asked her to make a clean break and cut contact with him as he worked through their breakup.

Jonathan could sense she wasn't being honest with him; he always knew when Samantha wasn't truthful because she chewed the left side of her bottom lip and sniffled. "And they made you, didn't they?" He threw it down because he knew it was the truth. She nodded, turning away to focus on the ducks.

"Dammit Samantha, I graduated from high school with top honors, got accepted into Harvard mid-semester and moved out on my own. And I didn't hear a single word from you. That really hurt!" Jon took a deep breath to control himself. He didn't want to cry in front of her; she'd seen enough of that after Michael's death.

"I know . . . I know . . . and I'm sorry." Guilt gnawed at her stomach and she was unable to stand the sadness in his eyes. "Jon, I wasn't supposed to call you. Dad and Angela told me that as part of your therapy …"

"Bullshit Sam! You could have sent me a graduation card. A congratulatory phone call . . . some sign of life!" Jonathan was venting now—he hadn't been able to voice any of these feelings at the hospital when his mother's life was in danger. But he needed to get it out now. Dr. Bellows had taught him that, at least. "You sent your father a card when he graduated and I know you called home too!"

"Hey", she said softly while raising her face up to his. "You're right. I should have contacted you. I was wrong. Can you forgive me?" Sam held her breath as she waited for him to respond. She was reminded of the time she'd arrived in California and had needed to apologize for being so mean to him in years past. He'd forgiven her then and she desperately hoped that he'd dispense the same grace to her once again.

Jonathan felt his heart seize in his chest when she looked at him with soft doe eyes. They got him every single time. She had cast a spell over him years ago and he couldn't stay angry with her. Besides, she had saved his mother's life.

"Of course I do. I just needed to tell you . . . that it hurt me." Jon looked down at the ground, not able to handle the emotions overwhelming him. Samantha's expression of remorse made him want to crush her against him and kiss her senseless.

"I'm glad you told me. Jon . . . as long as we're being honest. There's something I have to tell you." Sam bit her lip once again. Jonathan drew circles in the dirt with his running shoe. He sensed a sudden chill in the air around them and shivered slightly.

"What is it, Sam?"

"Uh . . . are you dating, Jon?" she sharply veered off course, catching them both off guard.

"Huh? Dating? No. Why? Are you?" Jon felt cold all over now. She wouldn't, would she?

She didn't answer him. She didn't need to. The shameful blush on her face spoke volumes.

"I see. So you have a boyfriend? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" So much for her previous apology. Her new transgression trumped her old one. He shook his head angrily and blinked hard to keep the tears in.

"Yes", she whispered. Rose started babbling loudly then, pointing to the ducks.

"You didn't even wait, did you?" he asked aghast.

"But Jon, you said you'd always be my friend even if …"

"If you dated?" he finished. "Yeah, I said that, Sam. But I didn't think you'd jump so quickly into something else so soon . . . it just . . . never mind." His pain was palpable and he didn't see any point in trying to hide it. Girls had shown him interest for sure—he was a good looking pre-med student after all. But Jon hadn't been able to go there; he still felt loyal to Sam in his heart.

"Jon?" Sam had to follow him quickly with the stroller—he was walking away from her, fists clenched angrily. "Jon? Wait! Come back!" But he ignored her calls and quickly made his way to the parking lot. He wouldn't be going home tonight after all, he decided. He couldn't deal with her, not now.

XXXXXX

Samantha arrived back home, carrying a sleeping Rose into the house ever so carefully. Picturing the pain on Jon's face made her feel sick to her stomach. He'd never simply walked away from her like that. Well, there'd been the time in California when he'd found out that she'd slept with Matt but that had ended up turning into quite a special evening-they'd kissed on the beach and he'd told her he loved her.

"Hey, you're home", Tony called out to her as he exited the kitchen. "Aww, here let me take Rosie from you." Tony gently extricated the drowsy toddler out of Sam's hands. "Angela and the baby are upstairs napping. But boy am I ever glad they're home!"

"Oh."

"What's wrong, Sam?" Tony could see it on her face; she looked utterly miserable.

"Jon's not here yet?"

"No, he called. He said he couldn't come after all. He's got a huge paper due on Monday. Why?"

Samantha gaped at her father. "He said that? But …"

"But what Sam?"

"Nothing Dad. It's nothing."

Samantha went up to her room, leaving her dad wondering after her. She closed the door, rested her head against the wood and sobbed her heart out.


	6. The Family Jewels

**Chapter 6**

Tony looked over at his sleeping wife and sighed; he was so relieved that she was back home and safe. Her recovery was slow, to be certain. After the numerous blood transfusions and emergency C-section, the doctors had found it necessary to keep her hospitalized for several days. Baby Victoria was doing wonderfully well considering the catastrophic nature of her birth. She had been born only one week shy of her due date and was full-term-a perfect bouncing baby girl. Unfortunately, Angela didn't have a generous milk supply this time around, as she'd had with Rose. She'd put the baby to her breast, become frustrated, cried over it and had finally stopped nursing. It wasn't working and when Victoria became slightly dehydrated, the doctor told her to give up and switch to formula. Feeling utterly defeated, Angela acquiesced. While this afforded the other family members treasured bonding opportunities with the baby and allowed Angela more rest, she worried that in some way she was failing her newborn.

Tony knew that Angela was having difficulties adjusting to the new baby while still recovering from surgery and near death. She'd recounted her near death experience to him and he'd been absolutely floored, not to mention frightened. Realizing that he'd come a mere breath from losing her forever filled him with such horrified bewilderment, that he began to dwell on the event almost obsessively. Death had caressed Angela and he'd almost been widowed once again. As a result, he kept a vigilant eye and fussed over her as though she might vanish at any moment. She in turn, felt somewhat smothered despite the great love he demonstrated. Perhaps it was because his love was tinged with fear, but the experience was discomfiting for both of them. As she slept on, he continued to study her, afraid to look away lest she stop breathing. Tony focused on the steady rhythm of her breathing, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. He gently touched her forehead to test for fever; the doctor had warned of possible complications, such as infection in the weeks following her C-section. But her skin felt cool to the touch, so he left her sleeping and went to tend to Rose whose morning fussing was becoming louder by the second. He didn't want her to wake Angela or the baby.

Tony was stressed. Rose was a handful and a half as it was and while Victoria was an easy baby, she still needed to be fed every few hours and produced enough dirty diapers to fill a landfill in no time. Thankfully his college days were over and done with—he'd graduated with a 3.5 GPA and was very proud of himself. But looking for work was another worry that hung over his head almost constantly. While technically unemployed, Tony still took care of all the housework and cooking. He didn't however receive a paycheque anymore. And he certainly didn't consider himself a housekeeper any longer; not when he was married to his 'boss'. Everything had changed so quickly and to no longer be a student or employed left him with a vague sense of dissatisfaction and unease. Angela paid all the bills and had advised him that she couldn't take a long maternity leave. The Bower Agency was in transition, acquiring new clients like fish jumping into a boat of their own accord. She could barely keep up with the demand and success of her agency. The temporary recession slump had ended with a bang when her campaign for Reed Hamilton's soap had blown its competitors out of the water, so to speak. As for Reed Hamilton himself, while not a huge fan of Mona, the two were coming to an understanding. Sometimes they bickered like an old married couple making Angela wonder if they'd indeed been together in another life. After Reed's campaign, coffee, chewing gum and shaving products had followed in quick succession. Late in her pregnancy, Angela had done her best to settle all of her accounts and give Jack clear direction but plenty of leeway. Still, Jack was submerged and couldn't handle all the new business on his own. Angela either needed to hire more staff or drag her exhausted self back to the office as soon as possible. With Tony out of school, it made most sense to let him be the primary childcare giver.

Tony knew this and acknowledged that it made sense but he wanted a career too! He hadn't busted his ass for four years at Ridgemont College to be a stay-at-home-dad. On the one hand, he respected Angela's need to run her busy agency but on the other, he wanted to provide as well. Living off of his wife's money was frustrating and a tiny bit emasculating. He'd received a strange job offer from Iowa months ago but had turned it down, not knowing how it had ended up in his hands to begin with. To think, Iowa! As if. Tony shook his head wondering what he would do if a local offer came his way-a good one. Would he be able to take it while the girls were so little and needing him so much?

His plate was full and he was juggling several others at the same time: Angela's health, his non-existent career, two very needy babies, and of course Samantha. He wasn't sure what was going on with her but she'd been morose and moody for days. Well at least she was helping out with the girls and for that, Tony was grateful. Tony sat Rose in her highchair and proceeded to heat up her milk. He scattered some Cheerios over her tray and groaned when she flung half of them to the floor.

"Bubba", she demanded loudly. Rose grinned up at Tony, eyes full of mischief and delight. Eyes that were identical to Angela's he mused. He loved this child so much—he couldn't have loved her more had she been born of his flesh. In a spontaneous gesture of affection, he planted a kiss on top of her red curls. She gurgled happily in response before grabbing Tony's nose.

"Ay-oh Rosie, ouch, your _bubba_ is coming. Daddy's heating it up . . . here you go!" Tony handed Rose her bottle of warmed milk and got the broom to sweep up the Cheerios. He made some coffee and toast and sat at the table eating as quickly as possible before Victoria woke up.

"Hi Dad", Sam ambled into the kitchen still in her nightgown, her long hair uncombed. She looked tired, no doubt from feeding Victoria at three in the morning. She made a beeline for the coffee maker and poured herself a large, steaming mug. "Oooh, coffee—I wish I could just inject it into my veins", she declared.

"Tired Sam?" Tony was concerned about her. She lacked her usual spunk and energy.

"Well the baby did wake me twice during the night. Uh Dad, did Jonathan say anything about whether or not he was coming home this weekend? Isn't he done with his courses yet?" Sam was completely in the dark when it came to Jon's schedule and plans. He hadn't spoken to her since their fateful meeting at the pond two weeks ago.

"He said he's coming home tonight. He's looking for a summer job. Didn't he tell you?" Tony raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Tonight! He didn't tell me anything. I hope he's not planning to work at the Fairfield Country Club again. Is Kathleen still there?" Samantha shuddered at the thought of the unhinged woman who had blackmailed her and Jon last year.

"Kathleen? You mean you haven't heard?" Again, Tony was surprised.

"Heard?" Sam added a generous spoonful of sugar to her coffee and took a tentative sip.

"Well . . . uh . . . how should I put this? Er, Kathleen is a fugitive." Tony shook his head and stifled a grin.

"What? Fugitive? What does that even mean, Dad?"

Tony chuckled before continuing. "She hooked up with some sort of biker dude, Sam. He held up a convenience store and she fled with him. So technically he's the fugitive. But she's aiding and abetting."

"Really? Dad, that's hysterical. The police are looking for them?" Sam couldn't help the deep throaty laugh that escaped her.

"Yeah. I'm just glad she's gone, out of our lives. She tormented Jonathan quite a bit after you left, teasing him about you and trying to extort some of his inheritance money. Finally, he reported it to her boss and they fired her. That's when she met the biker."

"Wow Dad! Well I can't say I'm surprised that she turned to a criminal element. She's nuts. I'm just sorry she bugged Jon so much." Sam looked away from her father—she felt sad about the state of her relationship with Jon. She really hadn't been there for him when he'd needed her and hearing that Kathleen had tormented him made her feel even worse. It was one thing to break up but she feared that she'd destroyed their friendship as well. Sam sat at the table across from her dad and sipped her coffee—her mind was miles away though and Tony could sense it.

"Is everything alright with you, Sweetheart?" Tony asked her. She didn't hear him at first so he repeated his question. "Sam?"

"What?" She pushed a fistful of tangled brown strands away from her eyes and looked up at him dejectedly.

"Are you okay Sam?"

"Dad . . . I just . . . feel a bit lost right now", she sighed into her coffee.

"Things not going well at school? Here? You don't regret coming home do ya?"

"No, it's not that. It's just . . . Dad, remember a couple of weeks ago when Jonathan was supposed to come home for the weekend but he cancelled saying he had a paper? Well that wasn't the truth-what happened is that I ran into him at _Too Good Pond _when he was on his way home. I hurt him Dad—I hurt him when I told him that I have a boyfriend. He doesn't talk to me anymore. I'm worried that I've wrecked our relationship and I miss him", she sniffled.

Tony wasn't sure how to answer her. He was surprised that she was being so honest with him this time around. After all of her lies and sneaking around last year, he'd forgotten how close they used to be. He put a hand on hers and gently squeezed it.

"I'm sorry Sam. I don't really know what to say. It is sad but it's a consequence of the relationship you two had last year. If only you guys hadn't …"

"I know that Dad!" Sam shouted. She was sick of his judgement and had gotten more than enough criticism from him already. Instead of recognizing the compassion he offered her, she felt censured by his words.

"Why do you think I left the country? Forget it Dad . . . I'm gonna call Kevin! This just . . . everything just sucks!"

Samantha dashed out of the kitchen leaving Tony to gape after her in bewilderment. "But . . . but . . . Sam?"

The commotion downstairs woke Angela and the baby. She gently eased herself out of bed, grateful that her incision was healing well and went to the bathroom before getting Victoria.

"Hi baby", she cooed as she picked up her youngest child. At almost three weeks, Victoria was looking more and more like her father. She had dark hair, olive skin and full lips just like Tony. But her eyes weren't brown; they were a startling shade of golden hazel that shone out brightly from her darker complexion. Angela held the baby tightly against her and made her way to the kitchen, almost colliding with Sam in the hallway. The girl was on the phone beside the little bench making a long distance call to her boyfriend. Sam turned her back to Angela and continued talking, completely ignoring her. Angela shrugged and continued walking toward the staircase. Sam's recent irritability was a source of consternation but it was definitely on her back burner. Right now, Angela was thinking about getting back to work as soon as possible and she needed to ask Tony a difficult question. She'd been putting it off but she had to do it and the sooner the better.

"Hi Honey", she called out as she entered the kitchen. Tony was making googly faces at Rose while the toddler rewarded him with a contagious, high-pitched giggle.

"Oh hey, Angela. How are you feeling? Here, let me hold the baby." Tony lifted Victoria out of her arms and kissed her head. She was such a calm, easy-tempered baby. Mona liked to say that she had an old soul because she stared at things as if she understood their meaning—as if she could see beyond the ordinary.

"I feel fine, Tony." Angela kissed him lightly on the mouth and began to prepare some formula.

"Tony, can we talk?" Angela settled herself with Victoria for her bottle feeding and gratefully accepted the mug of hot coffee proffered by her husband.

"What's on your mind, Angela?"

"Well, it's Rose's first birthday next week", she began.

"And yours too! We'll have to have a double birthday party for my special girls!" Tony enthused.

"Oh Tony, I've lost my taste for birthday parties," she said. She didn't want to mention Kathleen but the woman had completely ruined her fortieth birthday party along with Angela's desire to ever have another one.

"Right." Tony had nothing to say to that. "But hey, for Rose—we can have a little family get-together and invite Mrs. Rossini?"

"Sure Tony."

"Angela, why do I get the feeling that Rose's upcoming birthday isn't really what's on your mind?" Tony knew her so well.

"Well it ties in Tony. You know, Rose is only one and Victoria is three weeks old and . . . and . . . well Tony, I'm done."

"Done what?" He looked at her blankly.

"I'm done having babies. I don't want anymore. Rose was an accident while I was on the Pill and Victoria came so quickly afterwards that my body hasn't had a break. And that placental abruption scared me. I just want to ensure that it doesn't happen again." There, she'd said it. She looked down at the baby and waited.

"Well sure Angela, I mean we can use birth control for now and if you change your mind …"

"I won't. Tony, I'm done. I mean it. No more babies. And I don't want to go back on the Pill", she looked up at him now. "And since we both hate the feel of condoms . . . I was hoping that you could, uh, get a vasectomy?"

"A vasectomy? But that's so drastic and permanent!" Tony unconsciously placed a protective hand over his crotch. Her question horrified him.

"Permanent is what I'm looking for, Tony. And really, considering what I've been through; you know giving birth and almost dying, it's not a big favour to ask of you."

"But Angela, you're asking me to cut into the family jewels!" Tony was aghast. The thought of a vasectomy terrified him.

"Well Tony, it's up to you. It is your body. But I'm just telling you that I won't feel very secure about us making love if there's a risk of pregnancy."

"But Angela, don't you want to try for a boy at some point?"

"Tony, aren't you listening? No, I don't want any more babies. Boys or girls. I'm done. I'm turning forty-one in a few days-that's it for me. I need to focus on my agency and get back to work! I've given birth to three children and raised another. I don't want anymore and I don't want to even risk it. Please."

Tony wanted to argue with her; he didn't want to go under the knife. But hadn't her body been through so much more. Still, a vasectomy?

"Angela, can I think about it? I can't make a decision that quickly, during breakfast, just like that!"

"Take your time, Tony. The doctor won't clear me for a few more weeks anyway." Angela was glad to have put the topic on the table even if Tony needed time.

"Weeks? You want me to make a decision in mere weeks? Angela, I'm feeling pressured here. And I already have so much on my plate!" His existing stress levels spiked sharply with talk of cutting into his manly parts.

"Do you want to talk about it, Sweetheart?" she offered.

Tony opened his mouth but hesitated before closing it again. He was tempted to confide in her, to tell her about his job hunting woes and his desire to be a great teacher someday and his worries about Sam but he didn't want to burden her. So he shook his head instead and said, "It's fine, Honey. Everything is just fine."

XXXXXX

Kevin McNally hung up the phone with his girlfriend. Samantha had sounded upset and frazzled. He wondered what was going on with her in Connecticut. She'd mentioned being busy looking after her two baby sisters and her dad not understanding her. He'd suggested she return to Dublin early, before classes began so that they could have some couple time vacationing in the south of France but she'd turned him down flat. He felt possessive of her and she was too far away—he couldn't supervise her from across the Atlantic. A beautiful girl like that—she needed to be kept on a short leash. Men always ogled her but she was his. And he fully intended to be by her side where he could keep a close eye on her. She was his ticket to a life in the U.S. and he wasn't going to risk losing that! He picked up the still warm telephone receiver and made a call to British Airways.

XXXXXX

Jonathan Bower finished packing up his dorm room and shoved his belongings into his '91 Honda Civic. He was glad that his dad had gotten him a hatchback; it certainly came in handy at a time like this. He sat in his car and looked over at his passenger. "Are you sure you want to come with me? We only started dating? I can take you home if you'd rather …"

"Oh no, I wouldn't expect you to drive me all the way to D.C. I just want to be with you, Jon! My aunt's house isn't that far from Fairfield and she's happy to put me up for a few weeks. That way, we can keep on dating. I really like you." The attractive blonde flashed him a megawatt smile. She'd landed a pre-med student with money. And he was cute too. She wasn't going to let go of this prize, no way.

"Well okay then, Sherri. You can meet my family."


	7. A Birthday Affair

**Chapter 7**

Rose Micelli turned one on the same day that her mother turned forty-one. Tony swept his eyes over the living room one last time and smiled with satisfaction. Pink balloons, check. Mountain of presents, check. Colourful birthday banner, check. Mrs. Rossini was also headed over to celebrate the baby's birthday and was bringing a lasagne. Everything was just as it should be for a baby turning one. He'd made a magnificent cake, chocolate on the inside, pink frosting decorated with hearts and flowers on the outside. Sure, it looked like _Pepto Bismol_ had exploded all over the cake but there was never a thing too pink for a sweet little girl. 'Oh candles' Tony reminded himself. He needed to make a quick stop at the store to pick some up. He wanted to put some on the cake for Angela too.

Angela wanted to pretend that it wasn't her birthday, and intended to lavish all of her attention on Rose while ignoring her own special day. Kathleen had soured her birthday for years to come but giving birth to her daughter on her own birthday was a very special memory and she simply preferred to focus on Rose instead.

Jon had returned from school for the summer. On his way home, he had dropped Sherri off at her aunt's house near Fairfield but today, she'd be coming over and meeting the family. They'd started dating a few days after the pond incident with Sam. And while he wasn't quite sure how he felt about Sherri, he figured it was time to dive into the dating pool and reciprocate interest in one of the _many_ girls who had shown it to him. Sherri was very keen; she'd asked him out. He'd been playing an impromptu game of hacky sack with a bunch of other freshmen in the university quad, just as a means of burning off excess energy after exams. Sherri had been in the group as well, though technically she wasn't a Harvard student herself. She attended the local community college nearby but liked to peruse the Harvard grounds in search of cute guys. A self-described "Harvard groupie", she was looking for quality material in a boyfriend. She was nineteen years old and had initially balked upon learning that Jonathan Bower was barely seventeen but then she supposed that he was probably some sort of unusual child prodigy and would be successful indeed. Besides, he was tall, athletic and she recognized him from last year's _Raw Jeans_ print ads. Though she'd avoided telling him that—she didn't want him to think she was after him only for his money, future potential and good looks.

Since his arrival home, Jon had barely spoken two words to Sam. He'd decided to move into Mona's apartment, figuring that his grandmother was better and quieter company than two babies and the girl who had broken his heart. If Mona felt cramped or out of sorts by the arrival of her grandson into her own personal space, she didn't say much. She saw the brokenness in his spirit and felt genuine compassion for the kid. His sad eyes spoke volumes, and truth be told she had a soft spot for Jonathan.

"So kiddo, do we get to meet your new girlfriend today?" Mona tried to reach out to him. He'd been so quiet since his return.

"Yeah, but she's not my girlfriend. We only started dating", he said with no enthusiasm whatsoever. He and Mona were sitting on the living room couch together, waiting for the guests to arrive.

"Well, tell me. What is she like?" Mona again attempted to imbibe her speech with eagerness and interest. Drawing this kid out was like pulling teeth. He turned around slowly to face her and shrugged.

"She's alright Grandma. She's pretty and um, I don't know much about her yet. She's studying fashion and I think she likes purple." He hoped his grandmother would back off now. He knew next to nothing about Sherri and didn't much care to learn more anyway. She'd pursued him and he had gone along with things half-heartedly. Sherri reminded him of a cheerful bulldozer- bubbly and forceful.

"She likes purple? What kind of lame …." Mona was interrupted by the doorbell. Before she could get to the door, however, Sam came down the stairs to answer the door with Rose in her arms.

"Come on Birthday Girl, let's see who's here! I'll bet it's Mrs. Rossini to see you", she cooed to the baby. Samantha opened the door expecting to see her godmother but was instead greeted by an unfamiliar young woman.

"Can I help you?" she asked the voluptuous blonde at the door. Samantha couldn't help but stagger back a tiny bit—the girl's perfume was too sweet and reminded her of hospital issue soap.

"Hi, I'm Sherri! Is Jon home?" Sherri smiled brightly, giving the impression of having too many teeth in her generous mouth. Blond curls sprouted wildly from her head and spilled en masse over her shoulders. Big hair, big mouth and big boobs, Sam couldn't help but notice. She looked away from the stranger's exposed cleavage and stepped back to let her enter the house.

"Uh, Jon? Yeah, he's here …" Sam turned around as Jon joined her at the door.

"Oooh, there you are!" Sherri squealed when she saw Jon. She flung her arms around him and gave him a tight, perfumed squeeze. Sam detected his almost imperceptible cringe and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey Sherri", his greeting was low key. Sherri and Samantha standing next to each other gave him an overwhelming desire to go hide in the basement.

"Well aren't you going to introduce me? Who is this adorable cutie-pie?" Sherri gestured to Rose and waited.

"Sherri, meet Rose, my baby sister. And this is Sam, my _step-sister_." Jon hated using that word; it was so loaded with meaning. Step-sister and girlfriend, two mutually exclusive designations. And yet, his heart didn't care about semantics or labels. She was simply Sam and today she looked absolutely amazing. Her long hair was done up in a French braid that rested over her right shoulder. The simple turquoise sundress she wore showcased her shapely calves while barely any make-up adorned her lovely face. She looked about sixteen instead of almost twenty.

Sherri studied Samantha for a moment—the girl looked familiar. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"I don't think so", Sam replied. She was pretty sure that she would have remembered those _Chiclet_ teeth.

"Oh . . . my . . . god! You're the _Raw Jeans_ girl! The one in the ads with Jon!" Sherri blurted out excitedly before remembering her plan to not mention the ads.

Samantha and Jonathan blushed simultaneously; now both of them were wishing that they could hide in the basement.

"Well aren't you observant. Yes, that's my grandson and step-granddaughter in the jean ad. Isn't that exciting?!" Mona chirped sarcastically, stepping into the melee of young people. She'd known women like Sherri; opportunistic. Mona could spot the artifice from a mile away.

"But . . . but . . ." Sherri wanted to ask why on earth Jon would be kissing his step-sister in a national ad campaign but she didn't dare. She needed to learn more first.

"So, you recognized me from the ad, huh?" Jon asked. He wasn't impressed.

"Well, I didn't want to embarrass you. But er, you guys looked really good in that ad", Sherri added nervously.

"Where are Dad and Angela?" Sam tried to diffuse the tense, awkward moment.

"Tony went to buy birthday candles but he should be back any minute and Angela had to pick up more diapers", Mona informed them. Mona always found uncomfortable human interactions very entertaining. She had a feeling that she was going to enjoy this party very much.

The party was soon underway; Tony and Angela returned at about the same time as Mrs. Rossini arrived with Al in tow. He'd given her a ride and was invited to stay, of course. Rose was the centre of much attention, and lavished with toys, books and new dresses. She squealed with delight and smothered pink icing all over her face.

"Well it certainly looks we have one very happy birthday girl today", Angela said out loud. "Thank you everybody for your wonderful gifts."

"Oooh, I think there's one more gift . . . for my other birthday girl", Tony grinned. He knew that Angela didn't want to make any fuss for her own birthday but he couldn't let the occasion slip without giving her a present. And this one was special, indeed. He dug a small box out of his pocket and bowed before his wife, "For you, my lady", he said with great fanfare, a sly smile on his face.

"For me?" Angela took the proffered gift from her husband's outstretched hand. She looked at the robin egg blue wrapping and the telltale symbol. "Tiffany's?" she whispered in awe.

"Come on, open it!" Tony was very excited. He was giving Angela exactly what she had asked for. Angela's eyes sparkled like a young girl's; Tony's behaviour was definitely piquing her curiosity. She eagerly tore through the wrapping paper and opened the blue velvet box inside.

"Oh Tony . . . oh, it's beautiful!" Angela carefully lifted the charm bracelet out of its box and admired it. On a thin rope-like white gold chain were four jewel charms, each adorned with a letter. Intrigued, she looked more closely at the individual charms and their letters-S, J, R and V. She whispered the letters, rolling them over her tongue quietly until their meaning set in. "Oh . . . oh . . . the letters represent our children! I love it!"

"That's right, Angela. One for each of our kids, made with their birthstones. And Angela? It's perfect just the way it is." Tony looked at her meaningfully. He wanted her to understand that his gift was his acceptance that their family was complete and whole. He had scheduled an appointment for the vasectomy.

"Tony … this means so much to me. Thank you!" Angela absolutely understood his meaning. She happily threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"I love you, Sweetheart", he whispered in her ear. She stood back to look into his eyes and saw the depth of his devotion and love for her. She felt so blessed and happy.

"Thank you Tony. I know it wasn't easy for you to …" she couldn't finish her sentence because his mouth was suddenly on hers, kissing her deeply.

He pulled away and added, "I'd do anything for you Angela—anything!" For a moment, Tony and Angela felt like the only two people in the room. She stroked his cheek and looked at him tenderly, feeling her heart beat fast. After six years of friendship and two years together, she was still amazed at the depth of her passion for him.

"Yo, that's enough mushy stuff—you got guests", Al muttered, embarrassed. He held Tony up to a certain ideal of masculinity and right now, the kissing and tender words were making him feel rather uncomfortable.

"Don't be rude Al!" Mrs. R punched him on the arm, hard. "Look, they're so sweet together. If you'd get your act together, maybe _you_ could find a girlfriend." Mrs. Rossini did worry that the kid might be single for the rest of his life—he continually frightened his dates away with uncensored, bad-mannered remarks. Al seriously needed some lessons in etiquette and conversation. He had a good heart after all; one merely needed to look beyond his uncouth and boorish demeanour.

"I can get a girl, Mrs. R. Sheesh", he yanked his bruised arm away from her. "Yeah, preferably one with big maracas . . . like her!" Al pointed to Sherri.

"Al!" Sam, Mrs. Rossini and Tony all yelled at him together.

"Oh my god, I can't believe he just said that . . . Sherri, ignore him. The part of his brain that regulates speech is broken!" Samantha exclaimed loudly while giving Al a pointedly horrified look. "Really Al! Maracas?"

"Oh that's okay", Sherri said good-naturedly. "I know he meant it as a compliment." She remained completely unfazed.

"Yo, you bet that was a compliment. You're really hot and …"

"Al! She's with Jonathan. That's enough!" Mrs. Rossini chastised him again and wondered why Jonathan wasn't saying anything to defend his own date, or at the very least appear bothered by the attention that Al was giving her. Instead, he seemed amused. Not as amused as Mona though—she looked as if she was about to burst a seam. Tony and Angela were lost in each other as usual. Mrs. R sighed and wondered for the umpteenth time what was going on with this family, that she didn't know about.

"Jonathan, can you help me with something in the kitchen please!" Samantha uttered with clenched teeth. She needed to get him alone, just for a moment. "We'll be right back", she sang out with a fake smile on her face. Jon raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He followed her into the kitchen, somewhat mystified.

"What?" he said.

"Can't you see _what_? What's wrong with you?" Samantha's agitation was pulsating through her temple and her voice rose to a high pitch.

"With me? Nothing. Al, on the other hand …" Jon began before Sam cut him off mid-sentence.

"Al is Al. He's always like that. When a guy makes lewd comments about your girlfriend's 'maracas', you step in and defend her, Jon! That's the way it works." Sam shook her head at him.

"She's not my girlfriend, Sam." He moved closer to her and put a hand on her arm. "I can date but don't expect me to ever fall in love with another girl. It's not going to happen. I'm_ already_ in love."

Jon's hand on her bare arm sent shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. She wanted to move away but was drawn to him instead. With no conscious awareness, she took a step toward him. Then he moved a step closer and their bodies aligned with each other seamlessly. They fit so well together.

"I miss you", he whispered into her hair. He could see her pulse hammering in the hollow of her throat. She couldn't deny her feelings for him.

"We're not allowed Jon", she cried. The heat of his body pressed against hers was melting her self-control. But she was frightened. "They're in the other room", she reminded him.

He nodded and stepped away. He wouldn't push things with her now, but at least he knew that she still loved him. His doubts were gone when she looked up at him with genuinely anguished eyes. The cool rejection she'd displayed since returning from Dublin was a façade, he realized. She still loved him and he was elated.

"Sam?! Sam, get back out here!" Tony intruded noisily. He slowly opened the kitchen door, unsure of what he might find behind it. "Uh Sam? Somebody's here to see you!" Tony made certain his voice was loud enough to jolt those kids out of whatever they might be doing. He entered the kitchen and staggered backward when he felt the palpable chemistry sizzling between the kids. The hair on his arms rose as though he'd received an electric shock.

"What is it, Dad?" Sam brusquely backed away from Jon when she saw her father. Her abrupt movement caused her to painfully smash her lower back into the countertop behind her.

"Och, don't you be smashin' your wee little tush on me behalf lass. A bruise would certainly mire its perfection, don't ya think?" A deep voice with a powerful Irish accent jokingly scolded her.

"Kevin? Wha . . . what are you doing here?" Sam was literally shocked to see him. Had Mr. Snuffleupagus suddenly appeared in her kitchen with Big Bird, she could not have been more surprised.

"Aren't you happy to see me? Surprise Darling."


	8. Kevin

**Chapter 8**

Jonathan did not like Kevin McNally; in fact he felt a visceral revulsion for the man the second he saw him appear unexpectedly in the kitchen. He didn't like the way Kevin's sharpeyes studied Samantha's every move. And he didn't like the forceful manner in which Kevin grabbed Sam and planted a hard kiss on her soft lips. But most of all, he didn't like the fact that this guy even existed and that Samantha had chosen him as her boyfriend. There was something dark about Kevin and a heaviness permeated the air around him as though his downturned, melancholy eyes were windows into a tortured soul. They blazed frightfully like searing emeralds and for a moment Jonathan felt very small and insignificant under their watchful stare.

"Samantha, aren't you going to introduce us, formally that is?" Tony asked. He wasn't sure what to think of the Irish stranger that had suddenly darkened their doorstep unannounced. For one, he wondered how old Kevin was. The man already had fine lines around his strangely green eyes.

"Kevin McNally" Kevin answered for himself. "I'm Samantha's boyfriend. Thought I'd surprise the lass and by the looks on all of yer faces, I'd say I've succeeded."

"I'd say", Sam gasped, still breathless from Kevin's potent kiss. Suddenly, in her own kitchen, seeing Kevin beside her father and Jonathan made her nervous and off-kilter. Kevin didn't belong in this environment. He _was_ Dublin and he belonged at his pub, _The Frog_, serving beers and being the centre of attention with his cronies. She would come in with the other nursing students and they'd all joke around together over their beers. Then Kevin would command their attention by reading his incredible poetry to the group. He'd lock eyes with Samantha and recite the deepest longings of his heart. Sam had felt his tragedy and wanted to rescue him but he didn't belong in her kitchen.

"Kevin, this is my dad Tony Micelli and this is my step-brother, Jonathan Bower. Guys, meet Kevin." Samantha was gradually recovering from the shock of seeing him. Kevin shook hands with both men—his grip strong and tight. Too tight, thought Jon as he wrenched his long fingers out of Kevin's rough, calloused ones.

"Kevin, why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Sam asked confusedly.

"I wanted to surprise ya Samantha. I missed ya and needed to see ya again real soon."

"Do you have a place to stay? How long are you here for?" she inquired.

"Enough with the questions lass! I'd be much obliged ta stay here a course. If it be alright with your Da. I know you're a good Catholic man —so am I. I 'aven't touched her, ya can trust me."

Samantha simply gaped at him. _Hadn't touched her?_ Who was he kidding? He'd been trying to seduce her non-stop since their first date. The only reason he hadn't gotten anywhere was because she wouldn't let him. Since her break-up with Jon, she was not ready for a new sexual relationship. Kevin was always bemoaning how she wouldn't let him into her knickers. Good Catholic indeed, she mused.

Tony did not trust Kevin. But he figured that keeping him close would allow him to get to know this man in Samantha's life. "Well Kevin, any friend of Samantha's is a friend of the family's. Of course you're welcome here. You can stay in Jonathan's old room." Tony was tempted to put a lock on the door; on the outside. "No hanky panky and no conjugal visits, you understand?"

Kevin nodded and smiled inwardly as though laughing at his own joke. "Thank ya Mr. Micelli. I much appreciate it. Won't be stayin' long—I gotta get back to me pub. Me brother's watchin' her fer me."

"Your pub?" Tony asked.

"Yeah Dad, Kevin manages a pub in downtown Dublin. It's got authentic pub fare, bangers 'n mash, toad in the hole, uh …"

"And booze?" Tony added.

"Well yeah, I'm a bartender. Don't drink the stuff meself though. Had a wee bit of a problem with the bottle ya know. Been sober six years now." Kevin declared proudly.

Tony stared at him, unsure how to respond. His daughter was dating a recovering alcoholic bartender. He needed a moment alone with her. "Jonathan, can you show Kevin to your, er, his room please? Let him unpack?"

As soon as Jon and Kevin were out of earshot, Tony started in on his daughter.

"Samantha! An alcoholic? A bartender! You didn't mention that before and he just showed up without warning. I don't like this Sam!" Tony reamed into her in his typical overprotective dad way.

"Dad, I didn't ask him to come! And what's the big deal about him being a bartender? Besides, he doesn't drink. He's got it under control and he's tempted every single day at his bar." Sam knew about Kevin's struggle with alcohol.

"Then why the heck does he manage a bar?"

"His father willed it to him. It's a family business. He did AA, Dad. He's sober. " Sam assured her father. She'd never seen Kevin touch a drop.

"How old is he Sam? He looks at least thirty!" Tony was making his displeasure known.

"Um, he's thirty-two", Sam mumbled.

"What? Thirty-two? Sam! You're barely twenty; he's too old for you!" Tony was horrified.

"So Jonathan was too young and Kevin is too old! Well I'm sorry that I haven't found a boyfriend that you approve of. You're never gonna be happy Dad, no matter who I date. Kevin is interesting—he's a poet and he's taught me a lot about music and the arts and showed me around Dublin and …"

"I don't like it Samantha. I'm going to be keeping an eye on this guy."

"Yeah Dad." Sam held herself back from rolling her eyes.

"Alright, let's get back to the party. And remember …" Tony pointed to his eyes in warning. Sam sighed loudly and stepped back into the living room where she had to field questions about Kevin.

"Wow, is that your boyfriend?" Sherri asked, impressed. "He's really good looking and I love his accent!" she trilled.

Angela noted the distressed look on her husband's face and refrained from making any comments. Instead, she stood beside him and grasped his fingertips in her hand. "We'll talk later", she whispered to him. He nodded, his nostrils flaring with each exhalation of breath.

"Yo Sam, that some old dude you're with", Al said. "But eh, if he makes you happy." Al was a bit perplexed, truth be told. At one point, he'd been quite interested in Samantha himself, but he'd blown it with her. Go figure-she didn't like it when her dates threw popcorn at the screen. Now, he was just happy to have her as a good friend. And Al would gladly beat up any guy who might be trouble. He was going to keep an eye on this one.

"Thanks Al . . . sure, he makes me happy", Sam said quietly. For some reason, she'd been a lot happier with Kevin before seeing Jon again. Back when she'd been in denial about her feelings, thousands of miles away with an ocean to separate them. Kevin had pursued her so forcefully that she'd ended up going out with him despite her misgivings. She couldn't help the physical attraction she felt for him and the nurturer in her had wanted to soothe the wounded poet within him. But him coming here to Connecticut was too much. His presence unnerved her and she had the sudden desire to simply take off and hide somewhere. Now she'd be dealing with two babies, an ex-boyfriend who was still in love with her and a current boyfriend who wasn't supposed to be here. Samantha chewed her lip and tried to ignore the tightness in her gut.

" . . . and I can fix it up real nice again", Al was saying.

"Huh? What Al?" Sam realized he was addressing her directly.

You deaf Sam? I was saying I can fix your hair. You got a lot of split ends here", Al fingered the tip of Sam's braid. Samantha wondered when the topic had suddenly shifted to her hair. She looked up at Al with wide eyes. "You want to fix my hair?"

"Yeah, I got my own salon now! Sherri's gonna come and you gotta come too! See my new place. Tony helped me set it up when you were away!" Al said proudly. "I can fix that mess of curls on Sherri's head and cut yours again Sam. That was a great cut I gave you last year! You looked hot."

"Uh sure Al . . . I'd be happy to visit you at your new salon", she smiled at him. Al was holding Sam's braid in his hand, casually examining the condition of her hair when Kevin and Jonathan came back downstairs.

Kevin paused on the stairs. Who the hell was this guy touching his girlfriend's hair? His hand tightened on the bannister, nails digging into the wood. Behind him, Jon almost crashed into him—Kevin had stopped so abruptly.

"Something wrong?" Jon asked him.

Kevin turned around to look at him, eyebrows drawn angrily. He remembered to count just like the anger management classes had taught him. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . and he took a deep breath, composed himself and smiled. "Not at all." He continued down the stairs and stood alongside Samantha, giving Al a cool stare.

"Is there somethin' fascinating about me girlfriend's braid?" he asked Al sarcastically.

Sam could feel Kevin tense up beside her as he put a possessive arm around her waist. _Oh not this again._ He'd once slugged a man at the pub for supposedly leering at her. His jealousy was unwarranted once again.

"Al's a hairdresser!" Sam said loudly. "He's got a salon and wants to style my hair. Sherri's too!"

"A hairdresser? Really?" Kevin declared quite relieved. "Oh, I suppose you're a poof then."

Al looked at him in confusion. "A poof? Are you sayin' what I think you're sayin'?" he replied menacingly.

"Ha, ha, ha!" Sam let out a loud fake nervous laugh. "We don't say 'poof' here. We say 'gay'. And yes . . . yes Al is gay", she decided. It was for his own protection.

"What the …"Al began.

"It's okay Al. You don't have to hide-we all know!" her pleading eyes silently begging him to go along with her ruse. If he didn't, Kevin might make mincemeat out of him. He'd made the dangerous mistake of touching her in front of Kevin. "Please", she mouthed to Al.

"Gee you're gay? I never would have guessed!" said Sherri, oblivious to the mounting tension in the room. Mrs. Rossini and Angela appeared mystified, whereas Tony and Jonathan both became extremely worried. Why was Sam pushing this lie? Kevin's vice grip on Sam's waist made Tony want to rip the guy's arm off of his daughter. Who the hell was this guy?

"Whatever you say Sam", Al grumbled. He saw the possessive way Kevin was holding Sam—Al had street smarts. This guy was trouble. And if telling him he was gay was going to protect Sam, he could lie. Of course, he wished it hadn't been a lie that threatened his very masculinity, especially when he'd been making inroads with Sherri.

Samantha breathed an audible sigh of relief when the painful crush of Kevin's hand around her waist relaxed. First catastrophe averted. She wished she could put Kevin back on an airplane right now. She couldn't even imagine what might happen if he found out about Jonathan.

"Yeah well, I gotta go", Al said unpleasantly. He didn't want to stay here one moment longer especially if he had to pretend to be gay.

"Aw, you're leaving?" Sherri asked. "Well it was nice meeting you, Al. And thank you for inviting me to your salon. Can't wait to see what miracles you can do with these curls!" Al nodded at her, intent on showing her at some point that he was indeed straight.

Mrs. Rossini stared at Samantha unsure if she should say anything. She decided to keep her mouth shut, gave Sam an angry stare and followed Al out the door. She'd have words for the girl later.

"Way to empty a room", Jon muttered under his breath.

"Well, here we all are", Angela declared uncomfortably. She looked to Tony for guidance because she was truly at a loss—a complete loss on how to deal with Sam's Irish boyfriend.

"So Kevin . . . ah . . . how long are you staying?" Tony asked.

"I'm thinkin' 'bout ten days. Any longer than that and me bro will run the pub into tha ground", he laughed. "So long as ya don't mind me stayin' in yer room lad", he asked Jonathan.

"Oh he's staying with me", Mona said. She didn't trust Jonathan to answer—he looked like he wanted to kill something or somebody.

"Aye, I see ya got some ginger in your family. You and baby. Any chance ya might be a wee bit Irish?" he asked.

"Scottish and English actually", Mona replied.

"Scottish? English?" Kevin asked horrified. "But ye not be Protestants, I hope?"

"Uh Kevin! What difference does it make?" Sam jumped in. "Protestant, Catholic, it's all the same God right?"

"Samantha, you oughta know better than that! Ya said you were Catholic. I assumed your entire family was too!" Kevin felt as though he'd been deceived. _The Frog_ was a good Catholic establishment. He did not frequent Protestants.

"Well you know here in America, we don't much care about these differences", Tony declared.

"Yer married to a Protestant . . . ha . . . imagine that?" My Da would 'ave whopped me for that crime", Kevin replied.

Angela and Jonathan simply gaped at Kevin. Who the hell was this guy?

"Well if you're uncomfortable with their religion, you're certainly welcome to leave!" Tony shouted.

"Nah, it's okay. When in America, right?"

Samantha could feel the sweat pooling beneath her bra strap and on her upper lip. She'd never felt so awkward and uncomfortable bringing a boyfriend home to meet her family. She wondered if there was some way to fast forward through the next ten days because she honestly couldn't see how she'd make it otherwise.


	9. No use crying over spilled milk

**Chapter 9**

"I'm not happy, Angela! Not one bit. This Kevin . . . he's all wrong for Samantha. He's too old and he's bizarre. Who cares that I married a Protestant? Angela …"

"Tony", Angela cut him off. He was getting all worked up instead of trying to fall asleep. She turned over in the bed to face him, propping up her head with one hand. "You didn't have to invite him to stay. I don't like it either."

"He invited himself to stay-the nerve. Did you see how tightly he squeezed her, Angela? And why would she tell him Al is gay? What was she so worried about? Can we just kick this guy out? Now!" Tony kicked the covers in frustration. He stood up and announced to his wife that he was going to check on the girls. He was also tempted to nail Kevin's door shut. If that man made so much as a move toward Samantha's bedroom, he'd make a eunuch out of him. Tony exited into the hallway and saw the light on under Sam's door. He knocked lightly.

"Come in?" she answered quietly.

"I, uh, saw that you were still awake Sam", Tony began. He was relieved to find his daughter alone and let her know it.

"Checking up on me, Dad? Kevin's going to stay in his room—you told him to. He wouldn't jeopardize his stay here. I've managed to keep him at arm's length for months now. He's Catholic …"

"We _all _know he is! What's his problem with Protestants? Angela and Jonathan did not appreciate his prejudice against them . . . in their own home! And what's up with you saying that Al is gay! Samantha, I don't like this guy."

"Dad, you know there's a history of violence and problems between Catholics and Protestants in Ireland. He grew up with that stuff. It's ingrained in him. He was just surprised, that's all. And he did apologize."

"Hmf. And what about poor Al? Samantha, how could you say that about him? It's not true!"

Samantha didn't have such an easy answer this time. She blushed uncomfortably, avoiding her father's questioning eyes.

"Well?" Tony wanted an answer now.

"I didn't want him to be jealous of Al, Dad", she whispered, embarrassed.

"Why the heck would he be jealous of Al? I mean, it's Al? You have no interest in him, do you?"

"No, of course not! But, he touched my hair and I saw the look on Kevin's face. He gets jealous really easily and I wouldn't want him to hurt Al. Dad, he cannot find out about Jonathan." Sam couldn't even imagine how badly Kevin would react if he learned about her previous relationship.

Tony swallowed hard. He was very concerned about his daughter's well-being. "Sam, has he ever laid a hand on you?"

"No Dad! He wouldn't. He's crazy about me."

"Oh he's crazy alright. Samantha, how on earth did you end up with this guy? I don't get it. You can do so much better. Of all the guys in Dublin, you had to pick that one?" Tony couldn't understand it.

"It's complicated. It was so hard after Jon … and I found myself in this new country where I didn't know anybody! Kevin . . . he was so intense, you know? He's an incredible poet and he read his poems to us in the pub …"

"Oh great, a poet. What . . . like Brian Thomas?" Tony was referring to the man Angela had married in Vegas when she was eighteen. He still didn't understand that one. "What is it with women and poets?"

"I don't know, Dad. But Kevin . . . he's not what you think he is. He has a very sensitive soul and he suffers a lot. He pursued me, Dad-he was really interested and he showed me around. I was looking to meet new people and he was so magnetic and he made me laugh and forget about things back home", she shrugged. Seeing Kevin in this new environment, however, did make her wonder how she'd ended up with him. Of course, telling her dad that she'd been drawn to Kevin's magnificent green eyes and perfectly sculpted body wouldn't help her case one bit.

Tony shook his head. He still didn't get it. "Samantha, promise me one thing."

"What Dad?"

"Stay safe-if he so much as makes one wrong move towards you, you come to me. I'll deal with him. Oh and find a new boyfriend, will you?"

Sam smiled at Tony. She'd missed his care and concern, even his overprotectiveness. "It's only for ten days, Dad. I'll be fine. Don't worry so much."

"I'll always worry, Sam. Even when you're an old lady, I'll worry. That's what parents do. Goodnight Sweetheart."

"Night Dad."

Tony exited his daughter's room and went to check on Rose. She was fast asleep, clutching her blankie in her tiny fingers. He kissed her brow and returned to Angela.

"He's a poet, Angela", he grumbled as he got back into bed beside her.

"Careful, you almost bumped into Victoria's bassinette." Their bedroom was a bit crowded with the bassinette at the foot of their large, four-poster bed. "A poet? Is that bad?"

"Well you tell me. Remember Brian … Brian Thomas?"

"Tony, Kevin is nothing like Brian. Brian was a sensitive soul and he suffered a lot inside, you know? He had to express himself."

"Sensitive soul, huh? Yeah. Sure. You sound like Samantha now."

"Tony, I was a naive kid, only eighteen! And I'd never had a boyfriend-Brian pursued me-he was so intense and …"

"God, I don't believe this Angela! It's like hearing a broken record. Well Sam is the _naive kid_ right now. Ugh, how am I supposed to sleep when this guy . . . this man . . . this _jealous-alcoholic-poet-bartender-thirty-two- year-old-who-hates-Protestants_ . . . is on the other side of my daughter's wall?" Tony angrily thumped his pillow and stretched his legs, accidentally kicking his wife in the shin.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry Angela … can you shove over a bit. I need some room here." Tony felt restless.

"Tony, are you alright? I don't just mean about Kevin, but in general. Is everything okay with you?"

Tony was quiet. He didn't feel ready to broach a long, problematic conversation with Angela; his frustration at not having a job, his anxiety about the upcoming vasectomy and his difficulty in letting her support him. He laced his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

"Tony?" Angela could definitely sense that something was off with him. And it had started before Kevin's abrupt arrival that afternoon. "What's bothering you, Sweetheart?" She gently leaned in more closely to him, conscious of his need for space. He turned to look at her and she lightly stroked his cheek.

"I love you, Tony", she whispered. "You can always talk to me, you know that."

"Angela? I just feel … I'm a bit worried about the vasectomy, that's all." That was true, after all. It was one of many things hanging over his head, causing him to lose sleep these days.

"It'll be alright, Tony. Just a quick snip and the recovery isn't very long-I can stay with you when they do it, if it'll make you feel better. It means so much to me that you booked the appointment."

"Don't ever say 'snip' to a man, Angela", Tony cringed. "It's alright, I'll go on my own—wouldn't want you to witness that." Tony shuddered at the thought of anything being snipped. He felt like a dog about to be neutered.

"Hey", Angela needed to change the topic. "The bracelet you gave me today-I love it so much! The charms for each child; they're so beautiful and meaningful. Thank you." She squeezed his arm, noting how tightly his muscles were clenched. She softly stroked his bicep, trying to knead the tension out of him.

"Thing is Angela … _you_ paid for that bracelet. I used money from our joint account to buy it." Tony wouldn't have been able to afford such a gift without using Angela's money.

"Is that what's bothering you? Tony, that money is_ ours_—it belongs to both of us. You can use it however you see fit."

"I know Angela. I know. But it's money that you earned. I didn't contribute anything to it. Even the money I made as a housekeeper was money that you had given to me—not much different from the spending account you set up for me to take care of the household chores now." Tony sighed in frustration. "Angela, I'm a kept man."

"What? Tony, that's ridiculous. You're not a 'kept man'. We're married and you're doing invaluable work taking care of the babies, the house and everything else. My agency depends on me and I depend on you. Without your help, I wouldn't be able to do it. We're a team, you and I." She wanted to reassure him and make him understand how much he meant to her. She needed him so much—he was the sun around which she rotated—he was oxygen—he was her other half. Losing a limb would be easier than living life without Tony by her side. Angela carefully manoeuvered herself even closer to Tony. "You're my world, Tony", she whispered in his ear. He turned to face her, taken aback by the look of complete adoration in her passion-filled eyes. She caressed his face and fervently pressed her lips against his. He was lying down and pulled her on top of him, returning her kiss with equal fervor. He ran his hands down her back and lifted her nightgown up and over her head so that she lay nude along the length of him.

"I've missed this", he breathed. He kissed Angela's neck while continuing to stroke the soft skin of her back and glided his hands downward to fondle her hips. He felt himself becoming aroused by their closeness. "I want you … can we … yet?" he asked hopefully. After Rose, they'd waited a full month. Victoria was only three weeks old.

"Not yet-it's too soon. I'm not fully healed from the C-section yet. But here …I can help you relax." Angela ran her hands over his muscular body, relishing in his strength and firmness. She pushed down his boxers and stroked him until she heard him call out her name in sweet ecstasy. Tony fell asleep against her, no longer kicking covers or thumping pillows. Angela swept the damp hair out of his eyes and kissed his lips. "I love you so much, Tony", she said. But Tony didn't hear her—he'd fallen into the blissful sleep of a sated lover-obnoxious boyfriends and vasectomies temporarily forgotten.

Angela lay awake, worrying about Tony. Did he really see himself as a 'kept man'? She knew his pride had taken a blow with the Bower Agency was calling her back so soon. Sooner than they'd anticipated—so soon that Tony had been robbed of a chance to look for a job after graduation. Victoria was still a newborn—Angela wasn't ready to hire a nanny for such a young baby. And Rose, the toddler tornado needed a well-trusted caregiver to protect her from herself. The babies would only be little for such a short time and then Tony could do whatever he pleased—find a teaching job, become a coach, pursue a Master's degree if he was so inclined. But right now, the babies needed him. She'd remind him that it was only for a year or so that he needed to put his career goals on hold. What was one more year? He'd been her housekeeper for so many years—she only needed him to do it for one more year.

XXXXX

The entire household was impolitely woken at dawn. A loudly singing Irishman was in the kitchen preparing eggs and bacon, belting out the American anthem at the top of his lungs. Samantha headed downstairs first, to tell her boyfriend to shut it. He had managed to wake both babies, setting off a duet of ear splitting shrieks. Didn't he know that you never wake a sleeping baby? Sam feared that Dad and Angela would simply kill him. They certainly hadn't planned to get up so early either.

"Top 'O the mornin' ta ya", he greeted Samantha cheerfully. "I made breakfast for everybody!" Kevin was shirtless, his perfect physique sporting a diverse collection of Celtic tattoos. Sam looked away—she would not be distracted by his strong biceps and incredible six pack.

"It's **not** morning yet, Kevin. You woke the babies and they're both crying", Sam informed him grumpily.

"What kind of greeting is that, lass? I made breakfast. Babies cry, nothin' new 'bout that. Besides, it's midday for me. I'm on European time."

"Yeah but … we don't get up that early around here. And now Rose's sleep schedule is going to be messed up all day and she'll want to nap earlier and …"

"Enough Samantha!" he shouted angrily. "I didn't come all tha way to America to hear 'bout babies and schedules. Eat yer breakfast. Eggs sunny side up with bacon." Kevin dismissed Sam's concerns and slammed a plate full of food before her. "I made it fer ya, lass. Be grateful. Don't be harpin' 'bout inconsequential things now."

Kevin's eyes glowed a menacing shade of green—Sam had learned not to contradict him when he was in this type of mood. She took a bite of the food but found herself unable to swallow it. The lump was beginning to form in the back of her throat once again. She'd been free of it for a year or so and had managed to gain back ten of the twenty pounds she'd lost last year after Matt had dumped her so cruelly. Sam's heart began to pound; she'd grown to fear the throat lump because it made eating impossible and every so often it would explode causing her to cry uncontrollably for hours at a time. It wasn't supposed to return. Not now.

"What? Is me cookin' not to yer likin'?" Kevin was personally offended when Sam put down her fork.

"No, I'm not hungry, that's all." Sam pushed her plate away. "I've got to help with the babies", she said as she stood up to prepare Victoria's formula and heat up Rose's milk. She could feel Kevin's eyes on her, following her every move. Suddenly self-conscious, she wished that she'd worn a robe over her thin nightgown.

"What a waste of food", complained Kevin. "I hope yer parents will 'ave some appetite." He walked over to the stove, watching her as she put the small saucepan of milk to warm. She could feel the heat generated by his body as he stood behind her, his moist breath on her ear.

"I've missed ya darling", he whispered into Sam's neck. She tried to keep her hand steady as she stirred the milk but couldn't keep its tremor hidden from Kevin. She was feeling uneasy and anxious, not wanting to be touched right now. The lump in her throat was an unwelcome surprise and she didn't know how to deal with it again. "And I see ya've missed me too", he murmured, mistaking her shaking hand for desire. With no preamble, he swiftly swung her around to face him and kissed her.

Samantha gently pushed him away; she hadn't brushed her teeth yet and was definitely not in the mood for kissing. "Not now, Kevin … I have to get the babies' bottles made." Not accustomed to being put off, Kevin was rather miffed. He decided that charm was his best bet.

"You're lookin' so bonny today Samantha … 'tis a sexy nightie you've got. And your hair all long, spillin' down yer back like that …. you're perfection me darling", he crooned. "Forget them baby bottles for a wee moment and kiss yer man." He grabbed her again, ignoring her resistance. He liked when she played hard to get. Heedless of the neglected milk overheating on the stove directly behind her, he greedily plunged his lips onto her throat. Samantha pushed him backwards and lost her balance; she crashed into the stovetop causing the hot milk to splash against her.

"Oooh …. Owwwww ….burns!" she cried.

The milk had become too hot with Samantha otherwise occupied fending off her boyfriend's advances. It painfully scalded her rear end and the back of her thighs.

"What did ye do?" Kevin asked in alarm.

"The damned milk burned me!" she cried.

"Well if ya hadn't been pushing me away so hard, ya wouldn't have banged yer arse into the stove. Let me see what you've done to yerself lass", he shouted. "Silly girl", he continued to admonish her when she started to cry. "Oh, no, don't ya be cryin' now Samantha. Ya did it to yerself. I'm tryin' to help you!"

Samantha didn't want Kevin to tend to her injuries. She quickly wet a towel with cold water and applied it to the blistering skin on her bum and legs. "I'm going to have a scar", she cried.

"A scarred arse … well that's no good. Ya need aloe vera for that", Kevin declared.

"What is going on in here?" Angela entered the kitchen, holding Victoria in her arms. Rose was crawling at her feet; both babies were crying for their milk. Angela took in the scene before her in confusion. Samantha had shoved a wet towel into her panties and was holding it against her backside. Spilled milk was all over the floor and stovetop.

"I burned myself-the milk spilled on me", Samantha replied embarrassed, brushing tears off her face.

"Oh dear, are you badly hurt?" Angela was quite concerned—burns could be very painful and Sam was crying.

"It's her arse", snickered Kevin. He composed himself to appear serious when Angela looked at him incredulously. "We was foolin' around too close to tha stove . . . 'twas silly of us. Samantha's gotta learn to be more careful, eh lass?"

"Angela, I'm sorry. I can make more milk … I … prepared formula and …" Sam willed herself to stop snivelling.

"No, no, don't you worry about that Sweetheart. Go take care of those burns. Send your father down and I'll be right up to help you."

"No need, Mrs. Micelli—I can help Samantha", Kevin volunteered. He wanted to finally get a proper look at her. The thought of tending to her injured bottom excited him.

"Uh, no Kevin! I want Angela to help me! Can you please clean up the milk?"

"Oh so that's how it is, eh? Fine, I'll clean up tha milk. You go to yer Mam then," he mocked her.

Samantha ignored him and quickly headed up the stairs, the back of her thighs and her bottom burning in agony. She could feel her skin begin to blister painfully.

"Dad, can you take care of the babies in the kitchen please? Angela has to help me . . . I was burned by hot milk." She tried to say it without crying but seeing the worry on her dad's face made her want to throw herself into his safe arms. She kept her eyes downcast and locked herself in the bathroom; she couldn't look at him or she'd burst into tears.

"Sam?" Tony called through the bathroom door.

"Dad, I need Angela." She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Tony bounding down the stairs.

Samantha was beginning to dislike her boyfriend. The charm and soulful eyes that had so easily drawn her in three months ago were wearing thin. Samantha had gotten a glimpse of the inhabitant behind that disguise and what she saw there frightened her. She missed Jon's gentleness and kindness toward her.

"Sam, honey, it's me. Open up." Angela tapped at the bathroom door. Sam let her in and together, they tended to her burns.

"Sam, these are bad. You should see the doctor!"

"No, Angela. They're second degree burns-not much that the doctor can do. I'll just apply some topical antibiotic cream and keep the area covered. There's got to be gauze around here somewhere." Sam rummaged through the medicine cabinet until she found what she was looking for. "I can do it myself."

"So, you were fooling around beside the hot stove? That doesn't sound like you, Sam." Angela began to probe for some answers.

"That's because I wasn't. I was pushing Kevin away and lost my balance. It was stupid of me …"she trailed off.

"Stupid of you? No, Sam. There's nothing stupid about you, except perhaps your choice of boyfriend right now. You know … your father strongly disapproves of Kevin and I happen to agree with him. He's not right for you, Sweetheart."

Sam nodded hard, unable to reply. "Uh Angela, do you mind leaving me alone? I'm going to take a quick shower before I apply this gauze."

"Sam, just one thing before I leave you to your shower—'_This above all: to thine own self be true'_. You think about that Samantha. Shakespeare knew what he was talking about." Angela's parting words hung heavily in the air after she'd exited.

"But I was true to myself when I loved Jon", she whispered to the bathroom walls just before the lump in her throat burst and the damn of tears exploded on the tiled floor.


	10. To thine own self be true

**Chapter 10**

Tony sat in the doctor's waiting room, nervously glancing at the other men seated around him. Dr. Glazer, the foremost urologist in Fairfield was renowned for performing vasectomies. Despite the doctor's stellar reputation, however, Tony couldn't relax. His right leg was moving of its own accord, up and down, up and down, prompting the patient seated next to him to ask, "Are you nervous too?"

"Nervous? Me?" Tony pointed to himself, making a conscious effort to stop his leg from playing see-saw.

"I'm scared shitless", the man confided in Tony. "A scalpel in the nuts … that's gotta hurt!"

"Yeah, I guess so", Tony replied. He instinctively covered his privates to protect them from imminent danger.

"I knew a guy who had 'complications' after his vasectomy—couldn't get it up anymore", the stranger revealed conspiratorially.

"What? Can that happen?" Tony asked in horror.

"Yes! It's rare but it happened to my brother-in-law's cousin's husband. Terrible, terrible thing", the man said, shaking his head sadly.

"Then, why are you here?" Tony asked.

"My wife", the man replied with a shrug. "It's either do this or she's cutting me off in the bedroom."

"Uh-huh", Tony nodded sympathetically. "My wife almost died giving birth to our youngest child; she doesn't want any more kids."

The receptionist called out a name and the man stood up. "Well, that'll be me. Here's hoping there's no permanent damage. Good luck to you, buddy."

Tony began to sweat. He picked up a magazine to distract himself but couldn't concentrate well enough to read. He flipped through the pictures, pausing here and there but not taking any of it in. Anxious, he stood up to pace but was reprimanded by the receptionist who told him to take a seat. His leg started up again, shaking, moving and tapping. Tony pulled some gum out of his pocket and began to chew; that usually calmed his nerves.

"I'm sorry sir, but gum isn't allowed in the waiting room", the receptionist informed him. With damp hands, Tony pulled the still flavourful gum out of his mouth and threw it in the trash. None of the other men were feeling conversational, he noted. He wondered how his neighbour was doing and scanned the door, anxious for his reappearance.

Just then, the doctor popped his head out of the door. "Nurse!" he called. "Nurse, please come . . . I've got a fainter." Tony watched as the nurse ran across the hall. He tried to peer inside the exam room but couldn't see anything from his vantage point. He stood and walked over to the receptionist's desk.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, vaguely annoyed by this patient. He'd been quite disruptive with his leg shaking, pacing and gum chewing.

"That patient in there ….he fainted? Does that happen a lot?"

"Depends", she said. "Some men faint from the pain. But the doctor does administer a local anesthetic . . . a shot to the … well _you know_. Some guys just can't handle the sight of a scalpel so close to _that area_. Now please sit down and wait your turn", she ordered him.

Tony did not sit down. He bolted out of the waiting room, heart pounding and legs shaking. There was no way he could go through with it. A scalpel … possible erectile dysfunction … pain? He ran out of the building as fast as his trembling legs permitted him to. He couldn't do it, at least not now. He hoped Angela would understand … yeah, she'd have to. She wouldn't want him being unable to perform. She'd see his side of it, he told himself. At least he hoped so. On his way home, he stopped to buy her a dozen pink roses in the hopes that they'd soften the blow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So yer draggin' me to the poof's salon, eh?" Kevin remarked disagreeably. He, Sam and Jonathan were in Sam's car heading to Brooklyn. They were meeting Sherri at Al's salon. He'd promised the girls a cut and style and cleared his schedule just for them.

"Don't call him that!" Sam responded angrily, clenching the steering wheel. She felt terribly guilty about her lie and hoped that Al wasn't angry at her. Mrs. Rossini had already chewed her out on the phone.

"Fine, fine, I won't say 'poof'. But you don't need a haircut, Samantha. I like your hair long. Just a wee trim, okay? And if he wants to put curls in it, that's fine with me too." Kevin had rather strong opinions about the way his girlfriend should look. He didn't like short hair on women, period. And the idea of spending an entire afternoon waiting around while a poof styled his girlfriend's hair sounded boring beyond belief.

Samantha didn't answer Kevin. She'd been more or less ignoring him since the milk burning incident. Her backside was still painful and merely sitting in her car was causing her discomfort.

"Okay everybody, keep your eyes peeled for a parking spot. There's only street parking … we're almost there", Sam announced. She hated parallel parking her huge car in the city. But the thing needed a good run—it had been sitting idly in the garage for close to eight months. Her dad had taken it for a tune up recently and urged her to get it back on the road.

"Yer never gonna be able to park this hideous beast right", Kevin said. "You want me to do it?"

"No, I can do it myself." Sam pulled into a spot but needed five jerky manoeuvers to straighten the large, awkward car.

"Good grief lass, just park the damned thing will ya? Yer givin' me whiplash here."

"She's doing the best she can!" Jon exclaimed angrily. From his seat in the back, he'd been restraining the urge to pummel Kevin on the head. He'd heard about the milk burns from his mother and was livid.

"I got a good spot. The salon's only half a block away", Sam told the guys.

"Well, have fun. I'm gonna go for a walk, explore a bit", Kevin announced.

"You're not coming to the salon?" Sam asked, careful to keep her voice neutral. She didn't want Kevin to hear the relief in her voice.

"That's what I told ya. I'm gonna have a look see around Brooklyn … I'll be back." Kevin brusquely grabbed Sam and planted a rough kiss on her unsuspecting lips. "Bye lass … and remember, just a wee trim. Curls if it be pleasin' to ya." Before she could respond, he'd already turned around and was headed up the road. She watched him walk away, feeling herself relax with each step he took further from her.

"I'm sure Al will be relieved that he's not coming", Jon said. He could literally see the tension evaporating from Sam's shoulders now that Kevin was gone. She stood a bit straighter and taller and smiled at him. It was then that it dawned on him; he hadn't seen her smile once since Kevin's arrival.

"Is everything okay with you, Sam?" he asked, concerned.

"I am just happy to be getting this mess chopped off", she declared, completely avoiding Jon's question. She wasn't ready to confide in him and certainly not when his girlfriend was waiting for him.

"How are those burns feeling?"

"Uh, fine", she lied.

Realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere with questions, he decided to simply say what he needed to say. "Sam?"

"What?"

"I don't like Kevin—he's disrespectful and bossy. And it's his fault you were burned yesterday."

"You sound like Dad and Angela. I know … I know, Jon. There's not much I can do about it right now—he's here for another eight days. But, um, I'm gonna break up with him before he leaves." Sam stated this confidently but inside she was terrified. Kevin would definitely not take the break up well.

"Yeah?" Jon's face lit up with hope. "You're going to dump him?"

She nodded at him. "Just promise me you won't say anything, Jon. He can't find out beforehand, okay?"

"You got it!" He grabbed her hand in his and squeezed it tightly. "Seeing you with him makes me want to bash his head in. He doesn't cherish you, Sam."

She stopped in her tracks and studied him for a moment. He was gazing at her with tender concern; his large hazel eyes seeking connection with her dark ones. Their hands were tightly clasped. For a moment, Samantha allowed herself to pretend that there was no Kevin and no rule against her being with Jon. She concentrated on the here and now-the feel of his warm hand entwined with hers and breathed deeply.

"You always cherished me, Jon. You're the yardstick I measure against and Kevin is lacking. He's really, really lacking."

"I still cherish you … Boo", he uttered, using his old nickname for her. He kissed the back of her hand and escorted her into the salon.

Al was already working on Sherri's hair when they entered the salon. She was giggling and openly flirting with him. Sherri felt an undeniable attraction to Al even though he wasn't a medical student with a wealthy future. She couldn't help it—his Brooklyn accent and dark good looks had her smitten. As such, she was very disappointed that he was gay. As cute as Jon was, she was more interested in his future potential than anything else. Besides, he was only seventeen. Al was twenty-four; a much more suitable age to her nineteen years.

"I love the way you defined my curls", Sherri gushed, admiring her hair.

"Yeah, it was too frizzy. You gotta use this stylin' cream, no blow dry and a wide toothed comb", Al instructed her. He was trying to focus on Sherri's hair but her very low cut top was making it hard not to glance down at her generous cleavage every so often. Al looked up when he heard the door chime. Jonathan and Samantha entered the salon, holding hands. He raised an eyebrow in surprise and was pleased to note that the Irish ass hadn't accompanied them.

"Hey Sam … Johnny", he greeted. His usual enthusiasm was toned down; he was still upset with Samantha.

"Hey Al", Sam replied softly. "I owe you an apology. I'm really sorry about the other day and saying what I said about you. Sherri, Al isn't gay. Just don't let Kevin in on that, please."

"You're not?" Sherri squealed. "I didn't think you were!"

"It's okay Sam … I'll forgive you this time", Al replied. "I don't get why you wanted your boyfriend to think that. I'm not interested in you."

"You, uh, touched my hair in front of him. I was worried he might beat you up. He does that."

"Oh he's so passionate", Sherri said in awe. "He must really love you."

Samantha gaped at her but didn't answer. Al simply said, "Yo, I don't need you to protect me Sam. If that jerk has a problem with me, bring it on. I can take him."

"Oooo, I'm sure you can", Sherri trilled. She looked at Al's muscles appreciatively.

"Just … Al, just don't tell him anything, please", Sam beseeched him. He noted her anxiety and simply nodded.

"I won't. Now, forget about that dolt and let's do your hair Sam. Whaddya want?"

Samantha took her seat in the salon chair and pensively stared at her own reflection. Her hair was long; it had been over a year since Al had cut it. She took the elastic out of her ponytail and shook her hair loose.

"Cut it off", she said. "Give me the same cut you gave me a year ago before Angela's party. I loved it."

"Sam, are you sure you want to go that short?" Jon asked her apprehensively. "Kevin told you not to cut …"

"I don't give a damn what Kevin told me", Sam exclaimed with more bravado than she felt. "I like it bobbed. Chin length like last time, Al", she stated firmly. "Don't you like it like that, Jon?"

"Oh, I do!" Jonathan associated the short, swingy bob with the beginning of their relationship. Her hair had just been cut into that style when she'd arrived in California. He'd found it both ethereal and sexy as hell.

Al washed Sam's hair and cut it the exact same way he'd done a year ago. It suited her so well, this flowing soft geometric look. When she turned her head, the hair swung around with her movements and landed perfectly in place again. She tested it a few times and relished its sleek shine and feeling of lightness.

"I love it, Al. Once again, you've outdone yourself. And this time, I'm gonna pay you!" Sam declared.

"Ok then, I'm not gonna say no", Al chuckled. "You look great, Sam. If your boyfriend doesn't like it, then he's got no taste."

Sherri and Sam exclaimed over each other's hair while the guys looked on.

"Say Al, do you and Sherri have a little attraction going on?" Jon asked, curious. The chemistry between those two was enough to light up a small town.

"Uh, look Johnny, I know she's your girl … she's hot … if I overstepped …uh …"Al tried to backpedal.

"It's okay. If you're interested in her, she looks like she's into you. I'm going to step back on this one."

"You gonna be okay with that?" Al asked, stunned.

Jon nodded and laughed, happy that Al had finally found somebody and not scared her away. If bubbly, big toothed, busty blondes were Al's thing, Jon didn't mind one bit. Petite, classically beautiful brunettes were his. Well, one special brunette with the most gorgeous smile he'd ever seen. She gave him one now as she happily sauntered over to him. "I love my new hair. It reminds me of California", she told him, eyes sparkling with delight. "I'm going to give Al a big tip." Sam rummaged through her purse and pulled out two twenties. "One is for the cut and one is for your tip. You're awesome, Al. I owe you!"

Sherri began to look through her purse as well but Al stopped her. "Nah, yours is on the house Sherri. You're a first timer and I hope you come back." He smiled at her, turning on the charm full force, which in itself was usually quite the challenge for Al. Now, however, his smile came naturally. Kismet had struck. Sherri flashed him a big, toothy smile and gave him a hug.

The door chime rang. The hugs and smiles abruptly stopped as though a zapper had frozen the four young people in place. Kevin McNally stood in the salon's doorway, blocking the sun. Sam was the first to return to life, she jumped when she saw him; the scowl on his face spoke volumes. He was glowering at her, eyes blazing menacingly. But he didn't speak. Kevin walked stiffly into the salon, fists clenched at his side. He came right up to Samantha and stood before her, his six foot frame towering over her tiny one. She instinctively stepped back, surprised to see that Jon and Al had magically appeared on either side of her like guardian angels.

"What did you do to yer hair?" Kevin asked, his voice low. Samantha was reminded of distant rumbling thunder before the storm hits.

"I had it cut like I wanted", she replied evenly. It took every ounce of courage not to look down when she said it. She felt Jon move closer to her and Al pressed his shoulder to hers.

"You gotta problem with the haircut I gave her?" Al asked. He felt brave, especially with Sherri following his every move with round blue eyes.

"Ya look like a lad!" Kevin said cruelly. "I don't like it. I told ya just a trim. Why did ya not listen to me lass?"

"Because you aren't the boss of me! I like this hairstyle. It's my hair! I get to decide how I want it. If I want to shave it or dye it blue, that's my right. You can't tell me how to wear my hair!" Sam was yelling and gesticulating wildly, hands moving faster than her mouth. Her tough Brooklyn upbringing stirred within her, giving her courage. Kevin was in her territory now.

What happened next stunned them all; they hadn't been expecting it and nobody would have thought him capable of such a rash violent act. Kevin punched Samantha full in the face. She stumbled backwards and landed on her sore, burnt behind before Al or Jon could catch her.

Within seconds, Kevin found himself on the receiving end of four punching fists before he could react. Al and Jon were each pummeling him but they'd underestimated Kevin's strength. He'd trained as a pugilist and was strong. He warded off their blows, returning them strategically and hard. Satisfied that he'd landed some painful punches, he pushed the boys off of him and ran out of the salon, up the street. He was breathing hard, shocked by his own actions. He'd never hit a girl before. His Da used to beat up on his Mam all the time but he swore he'd never do it. Horrified, he continued running, needing to escape the demons that tormented him.

"Boo … Boo, are you alright?" Jon was instantly at Sam's side, ignoring the blinding pain in his eye. She clung to Jon and buried her face in his neck. Pain exploded through her left cheekbone. The blisters on her backside had burst with her fall and were now burning in agony. She sobbed against Jon, not ever wanting to let go.

Sherri was tending to Al's bloody nose, telling him how brave he'd been as she tried to staunch the bleeding with cotton balls.

"What should we do? Call the cops?" Sherri asked. Her three friends were all bruised and bleeding.

"I don't know", Sam cried. "I'm sorry … it's my fault for confronting him and cutting my hair …"

"It's not your fault!" Jon exclaimed adamantly. "He's violent, Sam. Has he ever hit you before?"

"No, no, I never thought he could do something like that. He can't go back to the house, Jon. We have to call Dad and Angela. Warn them!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony returned home apprehensively. He slowly pushed the front door open and tentatively let himself in.

"Tony, is that you?" Angela called out from upstairs. She ran down to greet him, surprised by the bouquet of roses.

"You managed to buy roses after the procedure? Oh my … how are you feeling, Sweetheart?" Angela gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Uh these are for you", Tony said awkwardly. He went to the kitchen to put the roses in water, Angela following closely behind him.

"Angela, sit down", Tony pulled out a kitchen chair and joined her at the table. He put the vase of roses on the table between them. "Are the babies napping?" he asked. She nodded.

"Good, good. Angela, we need to talk!"

"What is it? Was it the vasectomy? Did everything go alright?"

"No", Tony shook his head. "Angela, I couldn't go through with it. I, um, I walked out."

"You did what?! But why?" Angela asked stunned.

Tony noted the shocked and disappointed expression on his wife's face and tried to explain as best he could about the risks and the fainter and scalpels and pain and possible erectile dysfunction … it all poured out of him so fast that she had trouble following what he was saying. She did, however, recognize his deep anxiety.

"Oh Tony … you worry too much. It's such a simple procedure, really. Would it help to talk to Dr. Glazer more about it beforehand?"

"Angela, I … I don't think I can do this. Isn't there some other way? Maybe you could get your tubes tied", he blurted out, suddenly inspired.

"A tubal ligation, Tony?" Angela took a deep breath to calm herself. "I almost died when Victoria was born. I have given birth to three children. No, I don't want to submit myself to major surgery! How can you even ask me that after everything I've been through? I only asked you for one small procedure. It's only fair, Tony." Angela was outraged. How could Tony ask her to go through surgery when all he needed was a quick office procedure?

"But … but … but", Tony began to argue with her but the phone interrupted him. He stood up and picked it up.

"Yeah, hello?" he answered, somewhat distracted by vasectomies and tubal ligations.

"Tony? It's Jonathan. Uh, we don't know where Kevin went but if he's headed back to the house, don't let him in."

"Why, what's going on?" Tony's dad-antenna was on high alert. "Is Samantha okay?"

"She will be, eventually. Kevin hit her and ran off. We're all heading over to Mrs. Rossini's right now—to, uh, tend to our injuries", Jon explained. "Al called her …she's going to feed us too. And we don't feel safe staying at the salon where he can find Sam."

"He beat my daughter?!" A primal shout rose out of Tony's chest. "I'm going to kill him."


	11. Marie

**Chapter 11**

**_Author's Note: This chapter is about the kids but Tony and Angela will feature heavily in my next chapter. Please read and review and let me know what you think of the story so far. _**

Mrs. Rossini unlatched the numerous locks and bolts on her front door and opened it to three pathetic looking young people accompanied by one toothy blonde. Al had bloody cotton balls stuffed up his swelling nose, Jonathan's right eye was swollen shut and Samantha's left cheekbone was bruised and puffy.

"Look at the lot of yous … what happened?" Mrs. R cried in alarm. She'd seen her share of Brooklyn tempers and schoolyard scraps but these three had clearly been pummeled.

Mrs. Rossini went right to work—she sat the kids at her kitchen table, got the iodine, antibiotic cream, ice-packs and tended to each one of them with Sherri's help. The kids told her about Kevin, prompting Mrs. R to bolt all nine locks on her door.

"That's quite the shiner you've got there, kid", she told Jon as she applied a fresh steak to his eye.

"At least it's the other eye this time", he replied sardonically. He looked at Sam with his good eye, managing to elicit a tiny smile from her. He was referring to the black eye she'd given him almost two years ago when he'd ambushed her with a surprise kiss at the pinnacle of his unrequited crush before being sent to live with Michael.

"Yeah, but the shiner**_ I_** gave you was worse", she joked. He chuckled softly and lightly stroked her bruised cheek.

"Boo, if that bastard ever comes near you again, I'm going to kill him", Jon declared.

"I think you'll have to get in line behind my dad and me", she told him.

Mrs. Rossini looked at the dejected, injured kids and started boiling a huge pot of water for spaghetti. "I'm gonna feed you; at least your tummies will be full, even if your faces are sore. You poor, poor kids. You've come to the right place." They watched as Mrs. R fussed around her kitchen, throwing various ingredients onto her counter top-some zucchini, fresh tomatoes, mushrooms, mozzarella, ground beef, garlic and pasta of course. She expertly chopped, stirred, browned and baked.

"You know Samantha, when your mother was a teenager she dated this guy, uh, Tommy something-that was before she fell in love with your father." Mrs. Rossini had been quite close to the Milano family while Marie was growing up.

"She did?" Sam was curious about this.

"Yeah and he hit her—same as what happened to you. You should have seen Nick. For all his flaws, that man was a good father. He rearranged that boy's face—Tommy had to drink through a straw up his nose after your grandfather's beating." Mrs. Rossini gave her sauce a hard stir.

"A guy hit my mom?" Sam was aghast but she also felt a deep kinship to her late mother. She'd been a girl just like her, struggling with bad judgement too. She sighed, wishing she'd had more time with her mom—that her mom could see her now.

"Why did she go out with him?" Sam wanted to know more about Marie.

"It was a long time ago—she was only sixteen. But that Tommy, he was a handsome devil, just like that awful Irish boy. Marie was naïve and so young. You remind me so much of her, you know? You're wearin' her smile. She was such a beautiful girl. God rest her soul." Mrs. Rossini quickly did the sign of the cross and wiped a tear from her eye. She'd been the neighbourhood mother to all those kids growing up and when Marie had met Tony, she'd encouraged the relationship, loudly.

"So that's who you got your gorgeous smile from, eh Boo? I wish I'd met your mom—sounds like she was really special", Jon told her.

Samantha was unexpectedly gripped by a dormant deep longing for the mother she'd lost at such a young age. She'd only been eight years old when Marie had passed away. Her memories had a distant, dream-like quality to them. She could no longer picture her mother's face nor remember her voice. But she remembered her mother's perfume-Chanel No. 5. Sam wore it as an homage to her mom and because it comforted her. It was now her own signature scent. Samantha shifted on the hard kitchen chair; the blisters on her backside were painful and she was missing her mother. She quickly took off for the bathroom to have some privacy.

"Maybe you should see if she's alright", Mrs. Rossini prompted Jonathan. The lovelorn looks between the kids surprised her, but not in a bad way. The Bower kid was kind and he looked at Sam the exact same way that Tony had looked at her mother. She wondered if the boy was the cause of Sam's hasty departure to Ireland. She also questioned whether Tony and Angela were aware of the simmering passion between their grown children. She'd sensed something brewing in that house on Oak Hills Drive … she'd noticed it on the day of Tony and Angela's wedding. 'Hmf', she thought to herself—'leaving me in the dark like that.' She strained the spaghetti and watched as Al and Sherri made themselves cozy on the living room couch. "Will wonders never cease?" she muttered under her breath.

Jon headed toward the bathroom to check on Samantha. He was about to rap on the door when he heard her exclaim "oh dear" in dismay.

"Are you alright in there?" he asked her.

She opened the door a fraction, shaking her head. "My blisters burst open—they're kind of a mess. Can you bring me Mrs. R's first aid kit with gauze … lots of gauze?" Jon hurried back to the kitchen, grabbed the medical supplies and handed them to Sam.

"Do you want some help?" he called out through the closed bathroom door.

"Uh ..." Sam hesitated. She did need help and it wasn't anything he hadn't already seen before. She opened the door and let him in. "Well this isn't awkward", she said.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I can get Sherri …"

"No, not Sherri. What, and pull her away from Al? Besides, I don't think she's done stuffing cotton balls up his nose", she giggled.

"Those two have it bad", Jon declared.

"No kidding. And, um, it doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it? You know where my feelings lie. Now, let me see those burns." Jon decided to attempt a confident bedside manner with his 'patient'.

Sam nodded and faced away from him. She shyly lifted her skirt and turned back to look at him. "Can you disinfect them and put new gauze please?" Her heart was pounding—she was feeling too self-conscious to pull down the panties herself. She gave him permission and waited, hands on the edge of the sink, looking at their reflection in the mirror. He was ever so gentle with her, being careful not to scrape the burns with the underwear's elastic. He pulled them down and gasped.

"Those burns look very painful", he said with a wince. She braced herself as he began to clean her wounds, handling her burns so tenderly and cautiously. She submitted to the medical treatment he gave her, relieved that he was here to help her. She felt completely safe with him and trusted him even when the iodine stung and the washcloth felt like sandpaper.

"Sorry", he whispered when she let out a sharp gasp of pain. "I'm going to apply the antibiotic ointment now, then the gauze. It shouldn't hurt …I'll be super careful."

She took a deep breath, willing herself to relax. He spread the ointment on her wounds; his fingers moving deftly over the burnt skin. His touch was a balm and she closed her eyes. He'd been gentle as a lover and now, the feel of his warm hand on her bottom was beginning to affect her breathing.

For his part, Jon was trying not to think about the fact that he was rubbing ointment on her nude behind. Once he'd gotten over the shock of seeing the burns, he couldn't help but realize that she was half naked in the tiny confines of this bathroom. He mused that this was the second time they were together in a bathroom during a crisis. Third time if he counted her dead faint from dehydration in California last year.

"Stop", she blurted out suddenly. "This isn't a good idea … I'll do the gauze myself. Thank you but you should go!" Sam inhaled deeply to steady her ragged breathing. She turned around to face him and noted that the pupil in his good eye was dilated from arousal like her own. They were swimming in dangerous waters.

"Yeah, I'd better go … hold on, let me calm myself down. Okay, fat naked guy, fat naked guy, fat naked guy …" he chanted a few times. "I'm alright now", he exhaled as he exited the bathroom.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I don't think I ever ate so much in one sitting", Jon declared from the passenger seat of Sam's car. Mrs. Rossini had stuffed them full of Italian food after tending to their injuries. He and Sam were on their way back home.

"I'm sure that Dad and Angela will be happy to have the leftovers. Car reeks of garlic though … crack open the window, will you?"

"Hey, where are you going? The interstate's that way", Jon said in alarm. Sam had completely missed the turn off.

"There's someone I really need to talk to before we head home. Do you mind? I won't be long." Samantha pulled her car into Saint Agatha's Cemetery. The sun was setting and a slightly cool breeze was rustling the poplars. She parked the car, turned off the ignition and stared out the window for a moment, admiring the sunset.

"Is this where your mom is buried?" Jon asked.

"Yeah … I kind of miss her tonight. More than usual." She looked at him a bit sadly but then her eyes lit up. "Hey, come meet my mom, Jonathan."

"Uh, _meet _her? Suuuure." He followed her out of the car and down the small winding path that led towards the gravestones.

"Well, here she is", Sam said without preamble. "I should have brought flowers, darn."

"Hey, it's a spontaneous thing, right?" Jon looked at the gravestone that read _Marie Isabella Milano Micelli, cherished daughter, wife, mother and friend_. _1952-1980._

"God, she was so young", he said stunned. I mean, I knew but … seeing it here. It's so sad. She was only twenty-eight."

"Twenty-seven actually. She died before her birthday. They all died young."

"They who?"

"My mom, her mom before her, my dad's mom and her sister too. None of them made it to thirty. They all had cancer. On my mom's side, ovarian cancer and on my dad's side, breast cancer." Sam looked up at the sky and shuddered. She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm already twenty this year", she whispered to nobody in particular. She appeared forlorn for a moment as though wrestling with her own thoughts. Jon was about to ask her if she was alright when she suddenly turned around and smiled at him, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Come closer", then to the gravestone, "Mom, this is Jonathan Bower. You know about him already but I wanted him to meet you. I'm having a hard time today, Mom. Mrs. R told me about Tommy-the awful boy who hit you. Well, seems we have that in common." Sam sniffled and stared into the dying sun, mesmerised by its orange glow. "I miss you Mom … I wish I could talk to you and feel your arms around me again. I wish you could have seen me graduate from high school and be there when I become a nurse. I just wish … wish you hadn't died. You were way too young. It's not fair", she cried.

"Hey, hey, Boo?" Jonathan came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. He held her against him, warding off the early evening wind. It was beginning to pick up and he saw that she had goose bumps. "Come on, Sam. Let's go home. You're cold." He tried to lead her to the car but she resisted.

"Don't you get it?" she told him.

"What? That you miss your mom today? Yeah. Kevin hitting you today and Mrs. R telling you stories about your mom must have stirred up a lot of feelings and …"

"Yeah but not just that stuff!"

"What? What's wrong, Sam?"

"What if I die young too? What if I've only got seven years left? When my mom was my age, she was already married to my dad and pregnant with me. I barely got to have any time with her."

"You don't know when you'll die, Sam. None of us do." He tried to reassure her but a whisper of fear crept across his spirit. Would she be buried here in less than a decade too? Would he be bringing flowers to her grave in seven short years? No! He wasn't going to let fear get the best of him.

"Those kinds of cancers are hereditary. I'll probably die before I turn thirty like all the women in my family did."

"You're scaring me, Sam. Stop it."

"Sorry Sweetie … I'm not trying to scare you. I just wonder if I'll be joining my mom here in a few years."

"Sam?" Jon turned her around to face him. "I love you and I won't let you die. I'm going to become the best oncologist in the word and I'm going to save you if you get sick and …"

Samantha put a finger to his lips to quiet him. His fearful babbling wasn't why she'd brought up her possibly short life span.

"Jon, I didn't mean to freak you out. I guess what I'm trying to say is … uh, _carpe diem_. _Seize the day_. You know, like in that movie, **_Dead Poet's Society_**. If the early deaths of women in my family are any indication, I may only have seven years left."

"Sam, if that's true, then what the hell are we doing waiting around for three more of those years?"

"Exactly my point."


	12. Losing Battles

**Chapter 12**

Kevin McNally was drunk; he fell off the wagon with a loud crash taking his first drink in six years. The first drink was followed by seven more, whiskey upon whiskey until he was completely soused. The shock and horror he'd felt after hitting Samantha had driven him to the nearest bar and he hadn't stopped imbibing since his arrival.

"Hey buddy, I'm cuttin' you off", the bartender told him. Kevin looked up with bleary, bloodshot eyes. "No, you can't do that. I'm a payin' customer. Hit me again. Whiskey."

"No can do, pal. You're drunk as a skunk. I'm gonna call you a cab." The bartender made the call. A drunk slumped over his bar was not good for business.

"I don't want a blasted cab … more whiskey, I said. Good Irish whiskey … whaddya got back there?" Kevin stood up on unsteady feet and began wobbling toward the collection of bottles. The bartender, used to dealing with hostile drunks, blocked him. While Kevin was taller and stronger, he was also completely inebriated. He tried to push past the bartender but missed and landed on the dirty floor in a pile of discarded peanut shells. After uttering a string of curses, he allowed the bartender to help him to a chair.

When the cab finally arrived, the bartender and cabbie shoved the protesting Irishman into the back seat. "Where am I taking you?" the cabbie asked.

"Hold on … Connecticut … uh … me lass' house … lookin' for it … here. Take me there." Kevin handed the cabbie a slip of paper with the address.

"3344 Oak Hills Drive? In Connecticut? That's going to cost you", the cabbie warned him.

"'Tis not a problem. Me lass will pay for it." Kevin fell asleep in the cab's back seat, reeking of booze. The hard stuff had completely permeated his brain and after six years of sobriety, he'd underestimated his sensitivity to alcohol. No longer was Kevin McNally the kind of guy who drank you under the table. He'd drunk himself under a table.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"All four kids are safe and sound and asleep upstairs", Angela uttered with relief. She and Tony had been completely appalled by the kids' injuries. In short order, Tony had angrily removed Kevin's things from Jon's room and put them outside. Jonathan had decided to stay in the main house, feeling protective of Sam and his baby sisters.

"Now that his room's been vacated, I feel better having Jonathan back here. It's good to have an extra man around, especially when Kevin comes back for his things. Tony, where did you put Kevin's belongings?"

"In the garage. When he returns for them, we can have the bastard arrested. The kids should have called the cops. Not sure why they went to Mrs. Rossini's instead of going straight to the police. I wanna kill that guy, Angela! How did Sam end up with him in the first place?" Tony raked his hands through his hair in frustration.

Angela shrugged. "Who knows? Sam hasn't been exhibiting the best judgement for some time now. I mean look at her history, Tony. At eighteen, she became engaged to a cowboy she'd known for all of six weeks. And on the heels of that break-up, she somehow ended up with my son. I still don't fully understand that one. Now, she's with an abusive, older man? Haven't we raised her better than that? To think more highly of herself? To value who she is?"

"You know the feeling I get from her, Angela? That she's always in a hurry-in an unstoppable rush to grow up and experience things too soon. It's like that accelerated program; it was too hard for her. She regretted missing her last year of high school and then had a horrible first year of college. Why can't she simply take her time and do things properly? She's too impulsive." To Tony it seemed as though Samantha was propelling herself towards a finish line that only she could see. Sam's impetuosity often led her to crash through the natural flow of events. It was as though she was trying to cram a multitude of milestones into too short a time. Tony's approach to life was more relaxed; he liked to take the scenic route. Some had accused him of being too slow; his relationship with Angela came to mind. But taking one's time and making measured, deliberate choices was the wiser way to go. His daughter's proclivity for overshooting at high-speed confused him. He wondered why Sam always had such a sense of urgency in her decision making. He sighed and sat on the couch next to Angela. As soon as he sat, she stood up.

"It's late. I'm going to bed", Angela told him. She was still upset about Tony chickening out of the vasectomy as well as his suggestion that she have a tubal ligation. But it didn't seem the proper time to bring any of that up. Not when Tony was still reeling from Kevin assaulting his daughter. She'd bring it up again when tensions had simmered down. Right now, she simply needed sleep before Victoria woke up for her next nighttime feeding. She began heading up the stairs, aware of Tony's presence right behind her. She continued walking toward the bedroom without acknowledging him.

"Move over Ang", Tony muttered as he got into bed beside his wife. She scooted over in the bed giving him more room but kept her back turned to him.

"Your feet are cold", she hissed at him.

"Sorry … sorry … here let me warm you up, Babe." Tony moved his feet away from Angela's bare calves and wrapped his arms around her rigid form. She lay there for a moment, listening to their steady rhythmic breathing in the quiet bedroom. She wanted nothing more than to snuggle with him but she was angry and the incident with Kevin had made her tense. Tony's muscled arm felt like a restraint. Rather than burrow back into him as she usually did, she shrugged him off and moved a few inches away from him.

"Don't need warming up", she told him tersely.

"Yeah but it sure feels cold in here", he whispered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shortly after midnight, a loud, insistent banging at the door jarred everybody awake. Alarmed, Tony ran to the door while Angela tended to the now wailing babies. Samantha and Jonathan both exited their rooms at the same time and followed Tony down the stairs.

"Hold your horses. Who is it?" Tony demanded through the door, though he knew it could only be one person. He stood on his tiptoes and peered out the peephole. Kevin. Without undoing the chain lock, Tony opened the door a small crack. He was torn between wanting to tear Kevin to shreds and keeping him outside.

"You … you … you no good piece of garbage! How could you hit my baby girl?" _Dear God, help me not commit murder,_ he silently prayed. Tony's heart rate shot up and angry bile was rising up into his throat. The sight of Kevin's pleading green eyes made Tony tremble with rage.

"Mr. Micelli-I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have hit Sam. Please man, I dinno have anywhere to go. Can't pay me cab either … they won't take me foreign card. I be needin' yer help." Kevin's speech was slurred and he was slumped against the front door, legs somewhat ineffectively holding him up. Tony could detect the reek of booze through the door.

"You're drunk. Get outta here! Take your stuff from the garage, get back in the cab and go. Far, far away from here." Tony wanted to be rid of him.

Instead, Kevin fell onto the little porch bench and began to sob. "I wanna see me lass … tell her I be so sorry. Never meant to hit her. I'm not like my Da … I'm not! Me poor Mam, she was black and blue but I defended her, I did. I tried to protect her but me Da was so big and …" Kevin's apology erupted into uncontrollable sobbing. He vomited behind the bench and sat back down, head in his hands. "Just kill me man. I dinno wanna live like this. Not if I'm gonna be like me Da."

Tony was at a complete loss on how to handle a stinking, crying, remorseful drunk Irishman on his porch after midnight.

"Dad, let me talk to him", Samantha apprehensively walked up to the front door and undid the chain lock.

"No Sam!" Tony tried to hold her back but she stood firm. "It's okay Dad, I know him. He's apologizing-he's not going to hit me again." Samantha clenched her fists and took a deep breath. 'Stay calm', she repeated to herself. The last thing she wanted was an escalation of tempers where somebody might get hurt. She needed to take control of the situation.

Jon was anxious about Sam's safety. He stood beside Tony, tensely watching Sam on the porch. He had two overwhelming desires; to protect Sam and beat up Kevin. He pushed past the front door and came to stand between Sam and Kevin.

"How much money do you need for the cab?" she asked Kevin.

"Dunno, a lot", he moaned.

She looked to Jonathan questioningly, then over at the waiting cab.

"I'll take care of it", he grumbled. "Sam, are you sure you don't want the cab to take Kevin away, for good?" Jonathan went to grab some cash from inside the house, giving Kevin a pointedly dirty look. "You have a lot of nerve showing up here after what you did to her. You're no good for her; you never were." Unable to resist, he kicked Kevin in the shin, hard. "That's for hitting Samantha … you pathetic piece of shit." Kevin jerked his leg back in pain but said nothing. He looked away, ashamed of himself.

Sam put her hand on Jon's arm and lightly squeezed it. A small rueful smile adorned her lips for a millisecond when his eyes locked with hers to give her strength. While Jonathan went to pay the cabbie, she asked her dad if Kevin could sleep off his drunkenness in the garage.

"No, he can't!" Tony announced, suddenly confident about what he needed to do. He went back inside and called the police.

Samantha knew better than to argue with her father, but in her heart she still had a remnant of compassion for her ex-boyfriend. She'd found something loveable about him in Ireland and was sure that some decency still existed within him, beneath the rage and booze.

"I can't believe you broke your sobriety", she chastised him.

Kevin replied something unintelligible between sobs before uttering, "Samantha, I love you. I love you. You're me heart … me Mhuirnín", he cried out in Gaelic. "I'm sorry … so sorry … please Samantha", he wept.

"It's over between us, Kevin. You hit me … I can't be with you. You need help. Will you promise me to get help? Return to AA?" She tried to get him to agree but he was too far gone in his drunken stupor to promise her anything. He simply emitted a pitiful whine and repeatedly thumped his forehead with his palms.

"Can somebody make him coffee please?" she called out.

"Oh sure, we can make him coffee, bake him a cake and offer him a bed for the night. Are you kidding me, Samantha? The cops are on their way over", Tony yelled.

Samantha ran into the house, poured Kevin a large glass of water, ran back to the porch and handed it to him. "Drink this", she prompted. He looked at her gratefully then declared, "I gotta take a piss." Before she could stop him, he drunkenly stumbled over to the bushes and began to urinate on the rose trellis.

"Oh no you don't!" Tony shouted. He made to grab Kevin by the shoulder but he didn't want to get any of that powerful stream on himself. "Not on my roses! Over there…" Tony pushed Kevin slightly away from the flowers while Sam gazed up at the moon, wishing with all her heart that she'd never met Kevin McNally. She glanced over at Jon for support but he was simply staring at Kevin, mouth agape.

"He peed on the roses, Sam", he said in disbelief. Jonathan was tempted to turn the garden hose on Kevin to spray away his stench.

"Uh … er … well he's drunk!" Sam was horrified too. The combined smells of urine, vomit and sour whiskey were turning her stomach. "Gross", she whispered.

The police cruiser turned into the driveway just as Kevin was zipping up his jeans. Tony gestured to the police officers, grateful for their arrival.

"What seems to be the problem here, Sir?" the first cop asked.

"This guy! This guy here is the problem", Tony stated emphatically as he pointed to Kevin.

"Drunk and disorderly?" the second cop asked.

"He hit my daughter", Tony replied angrily. His hands were still shaking with rage, itching to punch out Kevin. He crossed his arms tightly against his chest to prevent their obvious trembling.

"Miss, are you pressing charges for assault and battery?" the second cop asked Samantha. He saw the large bruise on her face and shook his head. He hated domestic abuse cases. "He hit you too, Son?" he asked Jonathan, noting his black eye. Jon just nodded but said nothing. He could tell that Sam was scared, so he came to stand beside her.

"Go on Sam, tell the policeman how Kevin hit you today", Tony urged, as he unknowingly tore at the side seams of his pyjama pants.

Sam thought for a moment, unsure of what to do. She didn't believe that arrest and incarceration were the best options under the circumstances. She quietly observed the men around her to gather her thoughts; Tony was fuming, Jonathan stood stoically beside her and Kevin was an absolute mess, wiping snot from his face. He caught her eye and began pleading with her again.

"Please Mhuirnín, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. I don't want to be like me Da. Sam, I'll never lay another hand on ya … I be swearin' it on me Mam's life", Kevin cried, suddenly aware of his predicament. His ticket to America had dumped him. If she pressed charges, he'd have an arrest on his file and never be allowed to immigrate. And, he belatedly realized, he'd fallen hard for the rebellious beauty. No other woman had ever pushed him to the edge like that; he'd hit her because she'd riled him—because her defiance had made him crazy. He wanted to possess her, to make her his forever.

"I … no. I won't be pressing charges. He needs help, not jail", Sam declared more confidently than she felt. She took a step closer to Jon, needing to feel his reassuring presence at her back. Kevin was so pathetic; she was blinded by the tragic figure in him—the poet, the tears, the apologies. She ignored the warning hairs on the back of her neck and looked away from the cop.

The cop resisted rolling his eyes. He'd lost count of how many times a battery victim refused to press charges and the tragic consequences that often resulted.

"Are you sure, Miss?" the cop asked her. He wanted to arrest the abusive, drunk bastard.

"Samantha!? You have to press charges", Tony yelled in outrage. "He hit you!"

The cop sighed and tried a different tactic. "How about you Son? That's quite a shiner you've got there. Would you like to press charges?" He waited for Jon to speak but Jon simply shook his head no. He was taking Sam's lead in this.

"Well if nobody's pressing charges, then there's nothing I can do", the cop shrugged.

"But he's drunk. And he peed all over my beautiful rose trellis", Tony moaned.

The cop seized on the opportunity. He arrested Kevin for drunk and disorderly conduct as well as vandalism. That last one was a long shot but at least he'd be able to keep the man in the drunk tank overnight.

They watched as the cops cuffed Kevin and threw him in the back of the police cruiser with his belongings in the trunk. Initially Kevin tried to resist arrest but the cops were easily able to subdue him. As the car drove away, Kevin began banging hard on the back car window, frantically waving at Sam. Samantha shuddered in discomfort and relief, perturbed to see her relationship with Kevin end so wretchedly.

"Samantha!" Tony started in on her when the police car was out of sight. "How could you not press charges against him?"

"Because Dad, he … he's got issues! He grew up in an abusive household. He needs help. What is putting him in jail going to accomplish?"

"It would accomplish punishing him—getting him off the street! And you …" Tony pointed at Jonathan. "Why didn't you press charges?"

Jon sighed and simply said, "I only wanted to go along with Sam's decision."

"I can't believe this. They won't be able to hold him, you realize that right? He'll probably be released as soon as he sleeps off the booze. He'd better not come around here again", Tony said through clenched teeth, "or I'm gonna kill him."

"Dad, relax. The police have him and he'll probably be sent back to Ireland right away." Sam figured that would probably be the case.

"Yeah but he knows where you live in Dublin. He knows where your residence is. What if he comes looking for you?" Jonathan asked. He was starting to kick himself for not laying charges.

"My residence has security. I'll tell them to keep an eye out for him and I'll avoid his pub. What do you want me to do? Drop out of school?" Samantha was trying to display some bravado but inside, she was quite worried.

"No, but you could transfer to the University of Connecticut. They have a nursing program." Tony gently nudged both kids into the house and securely locked the front door. He thought that perhaps a security alarm system might also be a good idea.

"But Dad … I love Ireland and I'm not going to be spooked because of one drunken ex-boyfriend," Sam protested. "And I'm not going to discuss this right now because it's one in the morning and it sounds like Angela needs help with the babies." Samantha had a ridiculous urge to cry but she fought it. She ran up the stairs and found Angela in the nursery trying to calm both babies at the same time. The commotion downstairs had disturbed Rose and Victoria and they were still both crying and had been for almost an hour straight. Poor Angela was simply drained.

"What happened? I heard the police arrive. Are you alright, Sam?" Angela breathed a sigh of relief when Samantha plucked Victoria out of her arms—her high pitched screeching was like nails on a chalkboard.

"I'm fine. Kevin's gone and I don't want to transfer to the U of Connecticut", she exclaimed.

"Uh … okay", Angela paused, confused. "Why would you?"

"Never mind, Angela. I'm going to feed Victoria. Seems like Rose is calming down. You should get some rest."

"What about you, Sweetheart?"

"Forget it! I'm way too wound up to sleep now. I'll stay up with Victoria until she falls asleep … maybe watch a bit of TV to distract myself." Samantha wanted the brain-numbing comfort of television to erase the disturbing images of Kevin sobbing and banging on the police cruiser window. She'd never imagined that her melancholic poet boyfriend would strike her. She was still reeling from the events of the past 24 hours and knew that sleep would not be coming to her easily tonight.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Angela prodded. Samantha's face was flushed and her nostrils were flared.

"Not now, Angela. Maybe later, okay?" She held the screaming newborn against her chest and leaned in to kiss Angela goodnight.

"Goodnight then … thanks for taking the baby. You get some rest after her feeding."

Angela rocked Rose to sleep and placed her in her crib. She couldn't hear Victoria anymore and was ever so grateful for Sam's assistance.

"Hey, you comin' back to bed?" Tony asked. He quietly entered the nursery to check on Angela and Rose. Sam had successfully managed to quiet down Victoria by giving her bottle in front of the TV, and he wanted to go to bed now.

"I'll be there in a sec", Angela replied curtly. She waited until Tony exited the nursery and sat back down in the glider watching Rose sleeping in her crib. The baby's round cheeks were still wet with tears and her red curls damp from the exertion of wailing for forty-five minutes straight. She'd fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep as soon as the front door had closed. Kevin's arrival had stirred a hornet's nest in their home. His removal by the cops had restored an equilibrium; the stifling presence of Kevin was lifted yet not altogether gone.

Angela wasn't at peace. The Kevin incident had disturbed the normal flow of their lives and Tony's refusal to have a vasectomy was placing her in a difficult situation. She was hurt that he'd been so insensitive as to suggest a tubal ligation after all she'd just been through. She was reminded of Tony in the dentist's waiting room, nerves rattled and fearful as a wild animal caught in a trap. If he was that bad at the dentist's, she could just imagine how terribly anxious he must have been waiting his turn at the urologist's. She sighed deeply, leaning back into the glider's soft backrest. He'd have to go through with it eventually, because there was no way she was going to risk another pregnancy. Not at her age and not after almost dying. That decided, she made her way back to her bedroom where Tony was waiting for her in the large four-poster bed. There was no point in being angry; she'd simply have to convince him.

"Hey", he said softly as she slid in next to him.

"Hey yourself", she whispered back. She leaned in against him this time and rested her head on his chest. She always loved his comforting scent, although tonight it seemed that he'd sweated more than usual. The sharp scent of perspiration made her move back a bit.

"What's wrong? You still mad at me? 'Cause you know, Angela … I really had a rough time just now. Can we call a truce?"

"I'm not mad anymore, Tony. But, um … were you very anxious when Kevin was here?"

"Well yeah, Samantha refused to press charges. Can you believe that? She bought that whining song and dance of his—all of it. Arrrgggghh …" he cried out in frustration. "It was all for show, Angela; the tears, the remorse, the apologies. I'm worried about her. I don't want her returning to Dublin!"

"Ah, so that's why she brought up the U of Connecticut", Angela understood now.

"She needs to transfer back here, Angela and not be where that bastard can get to her. I can't protect my little girl if she's over there!"

"We're not going to resolve any of this at this hour, Tony. But, uh_…" how could she say this diplomatically?_ "…how about a shower? It'll help you relax."

Tony sniffed under his arms, not completely clueless. Ouf. "And I stink, right?" He chuckled because Angela looked so embarrassed.

"Tell you what Ang … I'll take a shower if you join me", he teased her.

"Sure, why not?" Angela was covered in baby tears, formula and spit up. She could use a quick wash herself.

She followed him into their bathroom, admiring his body as he stripped. He had the lean, muscled look of a well-conditioned athlete. Everything about Tony was firm and strong. Whenever she was with him, she felt safe. Making love with him, relishing in the power of his perfect physique, then lying back in his strong arms after he'd taken her to other worlds of ecstasy—it was simply heaven. She wanted that back-without the risk of pregnancy. And she knew he wanted it too. Would that desire be strong enough to conquer his fear?

She dimmed the lights in the bathroom and lit a couple of candles to create a warm, soothing ambience. Tony was already in the shower waiting for her.

"Water's perfect, Angela. There's plenty of room", he called out to her seductively.

She quickly discarded her nightgown and stepped into the shower with him. Her nude body still affected him as powerfully now as it had when he'd accidentally walked in on her bath so many years ago. Even after having back to back babies, he was mesmerized by the incandescent pearly glow of her pale skin. She was luminescent—her skin so creamy smooth, except where the dark triangle disappeared between her legs. He lovingly admired her for a moment, wanting to run his hands over that perfect skin and then in between …

"Tony?"

"Ummmm?"

"Pass the soap please", she said.

"I can lather you up", he smiled, moving closer to her. She nodded and enjoyed the sensation of his soapy hands all over her body, tending to her, caring for her, and loving her. The warm spray of water soothed her nerves. Their eyes met, then their lips—kissing came as naturally to them as breathing.

"I love you", he said.

"I know and I love you too, Tony."

She could see his arousal and pulled back from him a bit.

"What's wrong, Angela? Hey, I don't stink anymore; I washed all over."

"No, but you're, uh, turned on." He followed her gaze downward and simply shrugged.

"Of course I am. I'm in the shower with my gorgeous wife. Come closer to me, Babe." He reached his arms out toward her but she backed away.

"Better not go there, Tony. It's too soon for me and you're not ready either."

She quickly rinsed herself off and stepped out of the shower. Tony followed her out a minute later and found her already in bed, wearing thick pyjamas.

"Angela, I wasn't planning on us doing anything that could get you pregnant just now. I only wanted to give you some pleasure", he sighed in frustration.

"That's alright Tony. I'd rather wait. Wait until it's perfectly safe again. I love you and I know that you'll be able to go through with the, er, procedure. Perhaps I'll go with you next time."

Tony rested his head on the pillow and tried to face her but she turned her back to him.

"Goodnight Tony", she said to the wall.

"Goodnight Angela." Tony felt defeated. Two battles lost in the same evening. His little girl was in potential danger with that violent nut job on the loose and he, Tony, would be receiving a very unwelcome job on his nuts whether he liked it or not. Sleep wouldn't come to him; he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, worrying.


	13. The end of the line

**Chapter 13**

"You again", Dr. Glazer's receptionist rudely blurted out before remembering her manners. She glared at Tony, her eyelids half-drawn in contempt. It was the gum chewing, foot stomping, pacing, and freaked out patient from last week. He'd made a quick escape right before his turn. She looked down at her appointment book and checked him off. "Go have a seat", she ordered him.

"See, that wasn't so bad", Angela reassured him. She held Tony's hand in the waiting room, noting how damp and sweaty it was against hers.

"Angela, I was only checking in. That's not the part I'm worried about." Tony began to fidget in his seat, feeling constrained by Angela's secure grip on his hand.

"You'll be fine, Tony. This is a very safe and common procedure. I can stay with you the entire time, okay?"

"No, not okay Angela. I don't want you to see that. Just stay out here and wait for me." Tony didn't want her in there, no way.

"Are you sure? Because I don't mind …"

"I'm sure!" he cut her off crankily. His hands were shaking and his stomach was in knots. "Angela, I feel like a dog about to be fixed. It's hurting my masculinity", he complained.

"Oh Tony, this won't affect things in the bedroom. You're still going to be the same virile, passionate lover you've always been", she reassured him quietly, whispering discreetly into his ear.

"So long as they don't do any damage", he whimpered.

"They won't. Dr. Glazer is the best in his field in all of Connecticut. You're in good hands."

"I don't want his hands or his scalpel near there. Hold me, Angela", he cried dramatically.

Angela stifled the urge to scoff. Tony really was being quite melodramatic. Compared to nearly dying from a placental abruption, a vasectomy was very minor. Yet, his fear was very real to him, so she held him tightly against her, trying not to feel ridiculous under the receptionist's heavy-lidded glare. The other men in the waiting room were throwing her and Tony the occasional amused glance.

"Tony, could you loosen your grip please?" Angela exhaled gratefully when he relaxed his strong arms.

"Mr. Micelli? It's your turn", the receptionist announced. She couldn't believe what a wimp this patient was being and wondered if he was going to be a fainter too. In all of her years working there, she'd never, ever witnessed a patient chicken out.

Tony stood up, pulling Angela with him. "Tony, are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?" she asked him again.

"No, no, Angela. I'll be fine", he squeaked.

Like a prisoner taken to the executioner's chair, Tony dragged his heavy feet behind him. There was no escape this time. He swallowed hard, turned to look back at his wife and pitifully waved goodbye.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How was your job interview?" Sam asked Jonathan when he returned home. She was watching Victoria while Mona had taken Rose to a toddler playgroup.

"I got the job", he stated rather unenthusiastically. The new bouquet of blood red roses adorning the foyer desk distracted him.

"That's great. Swimming instructor at the summer camp sounds like a lot of fun." Jon didn't answer her. He walked over to the bouquet, pulled out the card and frowned in dismay.

"To my Mhuirnín? Why the hell is Kevin sending you more flowers?!"

"He's apologizing. Relax, will you? They're only flowers."

"Maybe you should toss them, just like you tossed that loser onto his ass."

"They're nice flowers and they look pretty. I'd feel bad about putting them in the trash. I'll never take him back; you know that." Samantha was feeling a bit defensive now. Kevin hadn't been deported-he was staying at the YMCA in New York City and sending Samantha daily gifts of contrition. He'd also called her numerous times but she always refused to speak with him in case he misconstrued communication as capitulation. She wanted nothing to do with him. Jon's jealousy was unwarranted.

"When is that jerk going back to Ireland?"

"In four days. But I'm not going to see him so what difference does it make?"

"The difference is that he's only an hour's drive away from you. He knows where you live and the only punishment he received was a stupid fine. We should have pressed assault charges", he said.

"Can we drop it please? I'm sick to death of hearing about Kevin!" Samantha scooped Victoria out of her bouncy chair and headed into the kitchen with her.

"Fine, let's not talk about Kevin. Let's talk about us", Jonathan followed Sam into the kitchen and poured himself some juice.

"What about us?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"You know what, Sam. That stuff you said at the cemetery last week. Why are we waiting? Do you want to get back together or not?" Jonathan was a bit confused. Samantha had said she didn't want to wait, yet nothing had changed.

"I … I need some time, Jon. It just ended with Kevin and so badly. I don't feel ready to start up again so soon." Samantha avoided looking at him, preferring to keep her eyes on the baby. But Victoria had the exact same eyes as Jonathan. It was somewhat disconcerting to be stared at by two sets of identical, golden hued eyes. Sam turned her head away and faced the window.

"Oh. Do you know how much time?" he pressed her.

"No, I don't. Jon, I can't commit to anything right now. I'm going back to Ireland end of August."

"That's not a good idea, Sam. You really should transfer to U of Conn like Tony said. Away from Kevin and closer to me."

"Oh not this again! You and Dad haven't stopped telling me what to do. You don't understand! My nursing school is awesome-I'm doing really well there. My roommate is great and I've made new friends. Dublin is absolutely incredible; there's so much history and …" she trialed off because she knew it was falling on deaf ears.

"Humph" was all she got in response.

"Jon, do you want to get out of here? Go somewhere?" Sam felt antsy.

"With the baby?"

"Yeah sure, why not? I can grab Victoria's car seat out of Dad's Jeep. He and Angela won't be back from the doctor's for a while still. We can grab a bite to eat … maybe go for a walk? I need some fresh air."

A slow smile spread over Jon's face. This sounded like a date even if they had to drag their baby sister along with them.

"You're on Sam! And no offense, but we're taking my car."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You did great; I'm so proud of you Sweetheart", Angela told her husband.

"I fainted, Angela", he muttered angrily. The red hot pain in his nether region was making it hard to walk. He hobbled from the Jaguar to the back kitchen door, holding a bag of ice between his legs.

"It was really more of a swoon, Tony-not a full faint. Why don't you make yourself comfortable on the couch and I'll start making dinner."

"You're gonna cook? Don't you think I've been through enough already?" he griped.

Angela drew a deep breath, and bit back a retort. Take-out pizza it would be. She followed Tony to the living room and handed him the remote control. "Why don't you watch something? It'll distract you."

She sat on the edge of the couch, unsure what to do. She'd found the kids' note on the kitchen table saying that they were out with Victoria. Angela wasn't too happy about that—Victoria was only a month old-too young to be dragged around by her older siblings simply because they were bored at home. It made her apprehensive.

"Oh good, you're home", Mona huffed as she plopped Rose into Angela's lap. "Kid's getting heavy—guess she won't be sitting on her daddy's lap for a while", she sniggered.

"Hardy har har, Mona." Mona's teasing did not improve Tony's mood. He gave her an irritated sideway glance and turned his attention back to the television.

"So, Tony, tell me about the pain that only a man can feel," Mona said, her blue eyes scrutinizing and only inches away from his face. Tony was curled up on his side, holding the ice against his groin.

"Angela, get her outta here!" If Tony ever wanted to throttle his mother-in-law, it was right now. Her teasing was too much for him at the moment.

"Mother, don't you need to be going?" Angela prompted her mother. She stood up with Rose and began moving toward the door, gently nudging Mona along.

"Alright, I can take a hint. You're welcome for my babysitting services. I should start charging considering how often you ask …"

"Mother!"

"Kidding, kidding, gee seems like nobody's got a sense of humor anymore." Mona rolled her eyes and returned to her apartment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How about Wally's Diner?" Samantha suggested. They'd gone for a leisurely walk through Fairfield's town centre, Victoria snuggled in a baby carrier against Sam. After an hour of window shopping and meandering, the kids were hungry.

"Sure, Wally's is fine", Jon agreed. He was becoming a bit frustrated with Sam for not wanting to discuss their relationship. Her attention was on the baby and the pretty things she'd gleaned through store windows. Sitting down with her for a quick meal would allow for some conversation, he hoped.

Wally's Dinner was a Fairfield institution; it had been around since before World War I. The tired old building needed some work but the weather worn exterior was part of its appeal. It was deep-rooted, traditional and its homemade grilled cheeseburgers were unmatched by any fast food joint within the city borders.

Samantha and Jonathan made their way into the diner; their eyes slowly adjusting to the dim interior. They followed the hostess to a booth and sat down. Victoria was still content in her baby carrier and didn't complain. Samantha hoped the baby would remain calm and not start howling halfway through their supper.

"May I take your order?" the waitress asked them. Her nametag said Doris; she was in her mid-fifties with brightly dyed orange hair and sharp blue eyes.

"Two cheeseburgers, fries and cokes please", Jon answered her. They always ordered the same thing here—there was no need for a menu.

"My goodness, you have a beautiful baby", she cooed while peering into Victoria's face.

"Actually she's not …", Sam began but Doris wasn't listening. She was enthralled with the baby's beautiful golden eyes.

"I'm not used to seeing parents as young as yourselves taking such good care of a baby", she exclaimed in a loud smoker's rasp. "What a cutie pie—takes after both of you, I see." Doris smiled warmly at them before heading away from their table.

"Sam, she thinks we're Victoria's parents!" Jon said somewhat stunned. He'd never been mistaken for a dad before.

"Well, she does look like both of us", Sam said. Victoria began to fuss; the waitress' unfamiliar voice had disturbed her.

"Oh no, not now … shhhh baby, shhhh", Sam tried to console her sister.

"Here, let me take her", Jon said. He stood up and helped Samantha remove the baby snuggly. He put the baby on his shoulder and slightly bounced her. "Does she need a bottle?"

"Yeah, I've got one here", Sam said. "Do you want to feed her?"

"Sure. I won't do diaper duty but bottles are okay", he laughed.

"You're gonna have to learn eventually. I don't think my diaper tutorial sank in last year."

"Very funny. Considering that Grandma had just interrupted what would have been my _first time_, I wasn't thinking straight that night, Sam." He shook his head ruefully, recalling the night of Tony and Angela's wedding.

"It's not like you didn't get your _first time_ soon after that", she teased. She remembered that night well—Jon had been grieving Michael's death and comforting him had rashly resulted in unplanned sex. She hadn't had the heart to turn him away in his darkest hour even though she hadn't intended to sleep with him while he was still sixteen. No wonder Dad and Angela had freaked out so badly.

Samantha handed Jon the baby's bottle and watched as he fed her. He had the baby securely tucked against himself, looking into her eyes while she greedily suckled away.

"That was something alright", he whispered, memories of their lovemaking still fresh in his mind. As if he could ever forget the feel of her lithe, supple body against his. As far as he was concerned, there was only one girl for him. What they'd shared was too special to ever be experienced with anybody else.

"It was too soon", she stated now.

"Too soon? Kind of late to say that now, don't you think?" he asked, somewhat thrown by her comment.

"It wasn't a good idea, Jon. You were too young and you were grieving. We should have listened to Mona."

"It didn't seem to bother you last year. As I recall you particularly enjoyed when I …"

"Shhhhhh … I don't want anybody to hear us. Let's not go there", she cautioned him, embarrassed now.

"It was a year ago, Samantha. I'm in college now and most of the freshman class is having sex", he pointed out.

"I know … I know that college is a hotbed of sexual exploration. But you weren't in college yet."

"Why are we talking about this stuff anyway?" he asked her, miffed by the direction their conversation was taking.

"Because of the things we said at the cemetery. I … I don't know if I could handle …" Samantha couldn't fully express her thought because it wasn't fully solidified in her brain yet. All she knew was that Kevin had frightened her and she was still feeling vulnerable and hurt. Painful life lessons were harsh yet truthful teachers and Samantha was realizing that she'd been unwise in her choices. She sighed deeply and was relieved when the waitress arrived with their food. She could concentrate on eating rather than talking.

"Couldn't handle what?" Jon asked, wondering why Sam had stopped mid-sentence with such a forlorn look on her face.

She took a bite of her cheeseburger and indicated with her hand that she couldn't speak. She studied him with the baby; he was so tender. She knew that one day he'd make a wonderful father. Father. The fathers in her family had all raised their motherless children alone. All of them. It had to stop here, with her. The reality of her legacy hit her full force like a cruel slap in the face. She blinked back tears and swallowed back the urge to cry. She would not be experiencing this one day. Victoria and Rose were the closest she'd ever come to having babies of her own.

"It's nothing", she said, a sad small smile on her face. "It's nothing at all."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Well it's about time you came home!" Angela admonished the kids when they walked through the front door. She worriedly checked on Victoria, who had contentedly passed out in her car seat.

"The baby is fine, Angela. We only took her to Wally's Diner", Sam informed her.

"She's so little, Samantha. I don't want her going out in public, being exposed to germs yet", Angela retorted.

"I'm sorry …. I should have checked with you first", Sam apologized although she thought that Angela was overreacting a bit. "How's Dad?"

"Oh yeah, poor Tony", Jonathan cringed at the thought of what had been done to his step-father.

"He'll live. He went to bed early-the painkillers knocked him out."

"Wow, so he actually went through with it this time", Sam said, rather impressed. "I didn't think he had it in him."

"You won't catch me ever doing something like that", Jon stated.

"You will if your wife makes you", Sam jokingly scolded him.

He swung around to face her. Samantha's casual reference to a hypothetical future wife unnerved him. She was the girl he wanted to marry someday-he knew that with every fibre of his being.

"But you want a lot of kids someday, don't you Sam?" he asked her, having seemingly forgotten their conversation at the cemetery.

Samantha shook her head sadly and looked away. "No. I … I'm never having kids."

"Sam?" Jon began, but Samantha was already halfway up the stairs, needing to hide her tears.

"Maybe I should check on her", Angela said. She had no idea why Samantha would say such a thing but she sensed that the girl was struggling with something important. Ignoring her son's worried expression, she headed up to Sam's room.

"Sam? May I come in?" she lightly rapped at the door.

"I'd rather be alone right now, Angela." Sam did not open the door. She'd surprised herself with the bold declaration of not wanting children. Samantha opened her top desk drawer; the one where she kept her personal mementos. She rifled through her papers until she found it; the photo of Marie taken in 1979 shortly before her mom had become ill. Her mother was so beautiful and vibrant in this picture—as yet unravaged by chemo and radiation. Her long, straight dark hair was parted down the middle, Seventies style. Soft doe-like eyes and a wide, generous smile radiated pure joy, transcending time. She'd been so lovely. Samantha traced the outline of her mother's face with her finger, recognizing its shape. She gasped in shock because the photo was a mirror image of her own face. How could she not have seen that before? She'd stared at this photo countless times since her mother's death, yet had never noticed the identical facial structure. Perhaps she'd been too young; her features still combining and maturing toward their inevitable form. With trepidation, she walked over to the mirror and held the photograph beside her face, forcing her lips into a smile. Matching dark eyes and wide smiles stared back at her. Clones. At twenty, she was a dead ringer for her mother. Dead. Ringer. Legs trembling, she sat on the bed and wondered what else she'd inherited from the dead woman in the photo.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Feeling somewhat defeated, Angela went to check on Tony. He was still out cold from his Codeine so she let him sleep. But what Samantha had said disturbed her. She tried next with Jonathan but he wasn't even one bit helpful. Angela was puzzled; there was a deeper mystery at work here.

When it was time for bed, she quietly got in next to Tony careful not to wake him. But his painkiller was wearing off and the burning sensation in his groin woke him.

"Need more drugs … hurts", he mumbled to Angela.

"Oh Sweetheart, you poor thing. I'll get you another Codeine." Angela slipped out of bed to fetch Tony another painkiller. "Here you go", she helped support his head and gave him a sip of water to chase it down.

"Thanks Angela … you've gotta know I love you to be going through this for you."

"Yes Tony. I know. I love you too. Now get some rest." But she wanted to ask him something first, before he fell asleep.

"Tony, do you have any idea why Samantha wouldn't want kids? Has she ever said anything to you about it? You don't think that my near-death experience having Victoria scared her, do you?"

"Scared? Sam? Nah. She'll want kids. Hopefully she'll meet a nice man … no Kevin … no … Kevin … no …" Tony's voice became weaker and more slurred. He fell asleep before he could finish his thought.

Angela was worried. Something in Samantha's tone and demeanor was off. She truly feared that her placental abruption had traumatized the girl. Unable to sleep, she tiptoed over to Sam's room and quietly opened the door. She found her asleep in bed, nightlight still on. Tears had dried on Sam's face and she was clutching something tightly against her chest. Angela lightly tugged at the photo, not wanting it to become anymore wrinkled. She smoothed it out, recognizing that it was Marie.

Puzzled, Angela put the photo on Sam's desk and wondered why the girl had fallen asleep with it. Marie? Samantha had successfully managed her grief and moved on years ago. Marie was a special and loved cherished memory for her now, no longer a source of fresh anguish. Yet the way Samantha had been clutching the photo, as well as the dried tears on her face spoke of something new. Angela would find out what was going on with her step-daughter. She glanced at the photo one last time before turning off the bedside lamp. "Oh", she exclaimed quietly. Now that Samantha was approaching photo-Marie in age, the resemblance was startling.

Angela switched out the light, plunging Sam's room into darkness. An uneasy feeling settled over her as she made her way back to bed.


	14. Spa Day

**Chapter 14**

"You can all breathe a sigh of relief today", Sam exclaimed as she swept into the kitchen at breakfast time, addressing Tony and Angela. Jonathan was already at his summer job, giving swimming lessons at the locally run city camp.

"No kiddin', I can finally breathe _and_ walk again", Tony muttered. "That was a fun four days." Tony was referring to what was foremost on his mind—his recovery from the vasectomy. Today, he did feel a lot better; the agonizing pain in his groin had subsided to a dull, tolerable ache.

Angela shot Tony an annoyed side-way glance and turned her attention back to Sam, whose mood was cheerful for a change. Angela had hit a brick wall with Sam; she hadn't been able to get the girl to confide in her about anything.

"Why can we breathe a big sigh of relief today?" Angela asked her.

"Kevin leaves for Ireland this afternoon. He sent me a long farewell letter with the latest bouquet. In it, he asked me to meet him at the airport before his plane departs. As if. Ha! But he's gone, gone, gone!" she chanted.

"Finally, that buffoon is outta here", Tony declared in relief. The living room looked like a flower shop; reminders of Kevin's transgression blooming and inappropriately fragrant.

"Well I think this calls for a celebration", Angela pounced on the opportunity. She wanted to get Sam alone so they could have a real heart to heart. "Samantha, how would you like to join me at the spa today? I'll treat us to manicures and pedicures." Angela wanted to spruce up before returning to the office the next day. Now that Tony was able to take care of the girls, he'd be doing it fulltime as Angela took back the helm at the Bower Agency. Jack and Neil demanded her presence to handle the exponential growth of accounts. It was a sore spot for Tony; his career was stuck in neutral.

"A mani/pedi?" Sam asked. "Sure, Angela. That'll be fun."

"We can have their spa lunch too; it's light and healthy. Since I'm on a diet, at least it's something I can eat." Angela had been working hard to lose the last few pounds of baby fat since Victoria's birth. She'd seriously cut down on her food intake, and her hard effort was starting to pay off. She couldn't run the Bower Agency with a post-partum gut. Always hard on herself since her 'fat days', Angela could not tolerate seeing the scale tip past 130 pounds, ever again. Not being allowed to exercise after the C-section had made her feel somewhat trapped. But now, she was allowed walks and frequently took both babies in the double stroller, pushing it around the neighbourhood, over and over again. Tony found it a bit obsessive but he'd never been fat and didn't understand her fear of going back there. Being at the mercy of her mortal body and almost dying had frightened her; an existential anxiety was borne of her latest childbirth experience, leaving her feeling insecure and anchorless. Her weight, however, was something she could control, so she counted calories, exercised and watched the pounds dropping off her already thin frame with steadfast determination. Besides, the doctor was going to clear both her and Tony to resume intimate relations—that appointment was imminent. She wanted to look as beautiful as possible for him.

"A spa lunch too? Oooh, I'm definitely in", Sam smiled. She loved a bit of pampering as much as the next girl.

"I suppose you're going to expect me to either be slaving away at the office or babysitting", Mona complained, the hurt evident in her tone.

"I'm sorry, Mother. You may join us if you wish", Angela said. She'd been so focussed on being alone with Samantha that she hadn't considered her mother's feelings. But she wondered if Mona's presence would be a help or a hindrance.

"Tony, do you feel well enough to watch both babies today?" Angela asked him.

"Do I have a choice?" Tony was about to protest but upon seeing the excitement on his daughter's face, he decided to clam up. "Sure, sure, I'll watch the babies, Angela. You and Sam … and Mona have fun at the spa today."

"Thanks Dad!" Samantha gave him an impulsive hug. She hadn't had any downtime in quite a while and was quite thrilled about her Ladies' Spa Day.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I'm going to go with _Sexy Sangria_", Mona declared, handing the bottle of nail polish to the manicurist. She loved the dark, slick shade. The three ladies hobbled over to the manicure tables, cotton strands intertwined between their toes post-pedicure.

Samantha settled on _Cotton Candy_ while Angela went with the more subtle _Country Rose_. The women sat together, each with a manicurist tending to her. They sat quietly for a few moments until Angela broke the silence.

"This is fun; I'm glad we were all able to do this together. It's such a mother-daughter thing to do, don't you think?"

"I guess", Sam hesitated. "My mom and I never got to go to a spa together since I was only eight when she died. Besides, we were too poor." Marie had been on her mind a lot lately.

"Oh Sweetheart, I know. But I meant you and me … you're my step-daughter", Angela explained.

"Right." Samantha concentrated on her fingernails, watching her cuticles being pushed up.

Angela wanted to innocuously move the conversation along and learn more about what had been plaguing Samantha badly enough for her to declare that she'd never have children. She took a deep breath and threw out, "Someday, you might have a daughter and you'll want to share special moments with her too." She waited, observing Samantha closely. The girl swallowed hard, then sniffled but said nothing. She continued to stare at her fingernails.

Mona knew nothing about Samantha's previous comment but sensed that something was a bit off kilter. "It's wonderful having these mother-daughter moments, especially because my daughter pays for everything", she joked to add some levity to the tense moment.

"Well the two of you are very lucky to still have each other", Sam replied, her voice edgy.

"And we're lucky to have you too, Sam. Very lucky. I love you like you're my own … as much as I love Jonathan, Rose and Victoria. In my heart, you are my daughter too. I want you to know that." Angela told her.

"Except I'm not, Angela!" Sam wanted to cry. She did love Angela as a mother … she really did, but sometimes she felt as though she was betraying her own mom. It wasn't Angela's blood coursing through her veins.

"Sweetheart, I'm not trying to replace your mom. I know that she'll always occupy a special place in your heart. But we're a family too, and I'm so thankful that you came into my life when you did."

"The hunk-for-a-father bit didn't hurt either", Mona teased. She still wasn't able to figure out where the tension was coming from.

"I know, Angela. I know. And I love you too. When you almost died from that placental abruption … I was so scared. I couldn't have survived losing a second mother. And you have been a mother to me …in every way that matters."

So there it was, the placental abruption. Angela decided to broach the topic, heedless of the eavesdropping beauticians. "You know, Samantha, complications in childbirth aren't that common. My deliveries with Jonathan and Rose were straightforward and uncomplicated. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression that having babies is dangerous. Even if the unexpected happens, there's good medical help … do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Uh, sure Angela. I know all about those statistics—my nursing studies covered that stuff." Sam wasn't sure what point Angela was trying to make.

"Oh good, so you don't need to swear off having kids. See? You'll be perfectly fine whenever the time comes."

"You swore off having kids?" Mona asked, shocked.

"Yeah Mona. But it wasn't because of your placental abruption, Angela." Understanding was dawning on Samantha.

"It wasn't?" Now Angela was confused. "Well, then why? Tell me why you'd say at age twenty, that you'll never have children. It makes no sense Samantha."

"You're not going to drop this, are you?" Sam was getting frustrated now.

"No, I'm not. What's going on with you?"

Samantha pulled her locket out of her shirt, careful not to wreck her drying polish. She carefully opened it and pointed to the tiny photo of her mother. "Dad gave me this locket for my thirteenth birthday. I hadn't realized it then but … well see for yourself." She held the locket up to Angela's face; it was a miniature of the photo from Sam's desk.

"She was very beautiful", Angela said. She didn't quite know what else to say.

"Remind you of anyone, Angela?"

"Well you, of course. You … you really do look a lot like her. Especially now."

"It's freaky, don't you think? I mean, I could be her twin sister."

"Almost. But that's a good thing, Sam. She was so lovely! A big part of her lives on in you. It's very special", Angela told her in a tender voice.

"But don't you see? She didn't make it to thirty. Neither did her mother or her mother before her. Dad's mom and aunt also died before thirty. They all had cancer." She closed the locket and tucked it back into her shirt.

Angela could indeed see where Samantha was going with this and she didn't like it one bit. She felt slightly queasy now; fear twisting her stomach at the thought of losing her beloved step-daughter.

"So you don't want kids because you think you're going to get sick too?" Angela thought it best to verbalize the fear—get it out there so they could deal with it.

"Yeah … that pretty much sums it up. The legacy of motherless children and single dads … it stops with me. These cancer genes—I've got a double whammy of them. Why take the risk, Angela?"

Mona couldn't stay quiet any longer. "Risk is part of life, kiddo! We don't know what will happen or when. If I'd known that Robert would die when Angela was only fourteen, I still would have married him and had his child. Those were the best years of my life. Don't deny yourself the living!"

"Listen to my mother, Sam. I didn't know that Michael would abandon me with a seven-year old. I don't regret my marriage or having my son. We never know what's around the corner. Samantha, you may well not develop cancer. And what are you going to do then? Be an old woman, regretting that you played it safe? Never had kids? That would be the tragedy, Sam. That would be the true tragedy."

"To love is to risk", Mona added. "Besides, how boring would life be if we never took chances? I live for love and romance and sex and…"

"You two are full of clichés, aren't you? Telling me to risk and to love! Yet, when I fell for Jon, I was vilified! And Kevin … there's a risk I could have done without!" Sam's voice rose an octave as she touched the almost healed bruise on her face.

"Uh Miss, could you give me back your hand please?" the manicurist shyly reprimanded her.

Samantha was torn between wanting to walk out of the spa and finishing her manicure. The Cotton Candy shade of polish was so pretty. She sighed deeply and held out her hands.

"Have you talked to your father about any of this?" Angela asked her.

"Ha! Are you kidding me? Dad would freak out. Losing his mother and his wife was traumatic enough for him. He's probably in complete denial about what could happen to me. Why stress him out? He's already got enough on his plate with a vasectomy and no career. I'm not gonna add to that."

Angela squirmed a bit in her seat. "Has your dad mentioned that he's stressed about not having a job?" Tony hadn't been confiding in her much lately. Between his anxiety over Kevin and his recovery from the vasectomy, career talk hadn't come up.

"Talked to Dad lately, Angela?" She shook her head.

"I … I … well he hasn't exactly said that he … I mean … what I'm trying to say is that he's on board with taking care of the girls for a while longer, until Victoria's old enough to go to daycare."

"You sure about that?" Sam asked her.

"He hasn't said that he doesn't want to", Angela replied somewhat hesitantly.

"Right." Sam didn't want to get in the middle of Dad and Angela's problems. Mona raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Well isn't this fun", Angela whispered timidly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kevin McNally was in a cab, on his way to the airport. He was angry; Samantha hadn't contacted him. She hadn't even bothered to wish him good-bye, nor thanked him for the many bouquets of flowers. He'd spent at least five hundred dollars on the most elaborate flower arrangements for her but no communication had come from her end-nothing, nada, zip. He clenched his teeth and blew hot air out of his nose. His trip to the U.S. had been a huge failure. Not only had Samantha dumped him, but he'd spent a night in jail, lost his sobriety and been forced to site-see on his own. But this drinking thing, he had it under control. He'd found an Irish pub near the Y and was limiting his consumption to beer. It was a well-known fact that beer was very low in alcoholic content … almost like drinking milk. Yeah, foamy milk, he laughed to himself.

The cabbie threw him a concerned look but said nothing. Tall, buff, tattooed guy like that-it was best to keep quiet under the circumstances. He decided against conversation. They rode in silence together until the cab passed by a decaying billboard; last year's ads still on there. The concrete was crumbling and the city had deemed it unsafe for the time being. Now cordoned off, it was on a long list of things to be repaired.

"Stop! Stop!" Kevin shouted to the cabbie. However, the cabbie was going with the flow of NYC traffic and stopping wasn't an option. Kevin opened the back seat passenger door and began recklessly touching his foot to the road; his Doc Marten boot scraping dangerously along the pavement at an alarming speed.

"Are you crazy man?" the cabbie yelled in alarm. His passenger was trying to exit a vehicle moving along at 40mph.

"I said stop the damned cab! I need to see something … pull over." The cabbie had no choice because Kevin's foot was dragging alongside the cab. He muttered a few expletives and pulled his car to the shoulder with the hazards on.

"That stunt you just pulled is very dangerous! You can't simply …" the cabbie began to yell but his passenger was gone. Kevin was running on the shoulder heading back to where he could see the billboard. He staggered as if walking in a nightmare. The image before him made no sense. None. A larger than life Samantha wearing jeans and a transparent top was kissing … kissing … her step-brother? No, it couldn't be? Kevin ignored the cars honking him and recklessly jumped onto the guardrail to have a better look. Perhaps the kids in the ad were doppelgangers. But no, it was Samantha with the lad Jonathan. Their lips were fused and the outline of her breasts was clearly visible through the accumulated grime. "Noooooo", he shouted in outrage and shock. She'd lied to him … made a mockery of their relationship. She'd never mentioned being a model, whorishly exposing her breasts and kissing the boy. Kevin felt as though his brain was about to implode from horror and jealous rage.

"What the f*** is this, Samantha?!" he growled. This from his so-called virginal girlfriend who had refused to sleep with him. He was willing to bet that she wasn't a virgin but rather a dirty little slut shagging her own Protestant stepbrother. He needed a drink to steady his shaking hands. Breathless, he stalked the cab and jumped into the back seat.

"Turn around!" he barked at the cabbie. "We're not going to the airport … we're going to Connecticut."

If the cabbie was confused, angry or frightened, he said nothing. A fare from New York to Connecticut was well worth his time, even with this lunatic sprawled in the back seat. He simply nodded and did a U-turn.

Kevin pulled a flask out of his shirt pocket—his emergency stash. True, he kept to beer but it never hurt to have a wee bit of Irish whiskey at arm's reach. He quickly drained the flask then proceeded to stare out the window. He fingers itched to punch, to hurt, and to destroy. Nobody took Kevin McNally for a fool. Nobody! The nervous cabbie thought he detected an occasional growl coming from his passenger. He shot an anxious look into the rear view mirror and shuddered. The murderous expression worn by the fuming man in the back seat unnerved him. He hoped he'd make it to the Connecticut destination in one piece.


	15. Battles Won

**Chapter 15**

The timing couldn't have been worse. Tony had scarcely managed to settle both babies down for their naps when he heard the banging on the door. Getting two babies to nap simultaneously was a tricky challenge and he certainly wasn't expecting company at this hour. The women were still at the spa and Jon hadn't yet returned from his summer job. Tony was alone with Rose and Victoria and had spent the last twenty minutes soothing them to sleep so he could have a few minutes to himself. He wanted to kill whoever was pounding on the front door.

He hastily ran down the stairs and opened the door without first checking through the peephole. His main goal was to stop the knocking so the babies wouldn't wake. Kevin violently pushed his way through the door; Tony's attempt to block it with his foot when he became aware of the intruder's identity was for naught. The element of surprise and potent rage were on Kevin's side. Tony stumbled backwards as Kevin stormed into the living room.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

Rather than answer him, Tony began to push Kevin toward the door. "You're gonna get the hell outta my house and you're never gonna come near my daughter again! You got that, punk?" Tony's Brooklyn accent always intensified when he was angry or upset. And right now, he was both.

Kevin resisted Tony's shoves and pushed back even harder. Heedless of the pain in his groin, Tony grabbed Kevin in a headlock and smashed his head into Jonathan's little foyer piano. Loud discordant notes shrieked in protest when Kevin's torso followed. Tony had him successfully pinned down but didn't know how long he could keep him there; Kevin was strong and in the throes of a drunken rage.

"Did punching my little girl in the face make you feel powerful? Huh? Huh?" Tony demanded furiously. To emphasize his outrage, Tony grabbed a fistful of Kevin's hair and crashed his head down on the piano once again. "'Cause it all changes when you're dealin' with someone your own size!"

XXX

Jonathan had put in half a day at the community centre where he was working as a swimming instructor. Teaching fearful preschoolers how to swim was a more challenging job than his previous gig as a lifeguard at the Fairfield Country Club. But at least he was safe from Joanne Parker's goosing and any reminders of Kathleen. He headed home, thoughts of Samantha occupying the edges of his mind. He wanted to reassure her that she'd be okay but her fears were beginning to play into his own and he now had himself convinced that she would die in a few short years. Logic and rational thinking were being swallowed by dread and panic. He couldn't lose her but if by some malevolent stroke of misfortune, their time was to be limited, he wanted to spend it by her side. So what if she didn't want kids? He didn't want kids. Not now, not at seventeen. But he wanted her and he was going to do his damned best to keep her in Connecticut.

The front door was already open when Jonathan pulled his Honda Civic into the driveway. A sense of foreboding swept over him; Tony never left the front door open and certainly not when a determined toddler could escape at any time. He parked and jumped out of his car, running up to the house.

Tony couldn't hold Kevin any longer; the hard Doc Marten boots were repeatedly heel kicking him in the shin. He only feared that Kevin might somehow manage to kick higher. Sensing the older man weaken, Kevin pretended to lie still before unpredictably shooting up and head butting Tony in the nose. When Jonathan entered the house, he found Tony on the floor, and Kevin about to kick him in the head.

"Stop!" he screamed as he lunged himself, full body onto Kevin. Jonathan now had the advantage of a surprise attack and Tony at his side. Together, they each took one half of Kevin and pinned him down. Jon held down his legs while Tony stayed up at the head, where his groin was at less risk of injury.

"You … you perverted little bastard!" Kevin shouted at Jonathan. "She's your stepsister! The billboard. I saw the sick billboard, you wee prick!" Spittle foamed at the corners of Kevin's mouth as he roared in outrage, trapped beneath Tony and Jon.

"Oh shit!" was all Jonathan could think to say. Not concerned for his own safety, he was now terrified for Samantha's. If Kevin's reaction to Al's haircut was any indication, Sam's very life might be in danger now. He locked eyes with Tony, conveying his deep anxiety.

"Did ya shag her then?" Kevin yelled. He flailed his legs hard, his knee connecting solidly with Jon's solar plexus. The breath knocked out of him, Jonathan staggered back and lost his hold on Kevin's legs. Kevin reared up like a whipped horse and threw Tony off with one powerful shrug.

"I asked ya if ya shagged her!" Kevin menacingly gripped Jonathan's shoulders in his strong hands, rattling the teenager.

"It was an ad. It's not real life!" Jonathan lied. He certainly would not admit to anything called 'shagging', assuming it meant sex. It sounded so dirty, so crude. What he'd shared with Samantha had been beautiful, loving and tender, not 'shagging'.

Somewhere in the recesses of Tony's brain was the thought that the women were due back at any time. He needed to get Kevin out of here before Samantha came home. While Kevin was interrogating Jonathan, Tony grabbed him in a chokehold while kicking the back of his knees out from under him. Kevin slumped against him like a rag doll, fully at his mercy. After years of being dormant amongst the manicured lawns and pinky-tea-sippers of Connecticut, _Brooklyn Tony_ unexpectedly woke up to the danger around him. He squeezed Kevin's throat hard, his arms like powerful boa constrictors squeezing his enemy's Adam's apple to oblivion. Kevin flailed and kicked but couldn't draw breath. His face was turning purple and his eyes bulged out, but Tony was unrelenting with his death grip. Jonathan stared in shock but said nothing.

The women returned home-the front door was still wide open and the violent living room scene both confused and horrified them. "Dad! Oh my god, Dad, you're strangling him!" Samantha shouted, temporarily putting a halt to _Brooklyn Tony'_s murderous impulses. Behind her, Angela and Mona were equally appalled and joined Sam in a chorus of estrogenic pleas for Tony to stop.

_Connecticut Tony_ looked down at the half-asphyxiated man in revulsion and released the pressure around Kevin's throat. Kevin coughed and wheezed, gasping for breath. Rather than espousing any sense of gratitude for Samantha's intervention, he viciously accused her instead.

"Ya little slut!" he wheezed. The few breaths he'd taken had re-fortified him. He stood up and stumbled toward her, still panting. "Got some secrets, do ya?" Kevin's eyes narrowed.

_Brooklyn Tony_ was fighting for dominance with _Connecticut Tony_. The former won out once again. He grabbed Kevin's arm and twisted it painfully behind his back, then kicked the back of his knees to buckle him down. The enemy had gotten too close to his daughter and _Brooklyn Tony_ was all about eliminating threats.

Samantha had no idea what Kevin was talking about but she was grateful for her father's stronghold on Kevin. The searing hatred in her ex-boyfriend's eyes frightened her. She took a step backward and was joined by Jonathan. He guarded her protectively in full defence mode.

"Look at the two of you … you're sick!" Kevin sneered. "I saw the billboard! Did ya think you could hide it from me? You lying little whore … yer breasts showing … kissing yer stepbrother!"

Samantha's heart was pounding and she felt as though she might vomit. She had no doubt that Kevin would be lunging at her, trying to kill her if her father wasn't holding him back so forcefully. She could hear Angela on the phone calling 911 but it did nothing to appease the sheer terror coursing through her. Kevin's murderous green eyes made her feel like small prey at the mercy of a hungry wolf. 'Don't let go, Dad', she silently screamed in her head. But Tony was tiring fast; still recovering from surgery and days on Codeine. He looked pleadingly at Jon, who came to assist him. They had to hold Kevin until the police arrived.

Kevin struggled mightily but he was trapped in a double grip and still stuck on his knees. His only weapon was his tongue.

"What do you have to say for yerself, lass? You wanna claim that yer a virgin? Is that why you wouldn't let me touch you?" His voice dripped with sarcasm and contempt.

"I never claimed that" she whispered defensively. She was about to cower out of sight when it hit her … Kevin couldn't win. Not now. Dad and Jonathan had him and the police were on the way. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Life was too short, dammit. A newfound courage fuelled her. She witnessed the determination and strength of the two most important men in her life and knew they had put themselves in harm's way because of their love for her. Their love was stronger than fear. Samantha jutted out her chin and came within inches of Kevin.

"I didn't let you touch me because I never loved you", she calmly informed him.

Kevin became incensed by her words. He tried to lunge but Jon gripped him more tightly, holding on with all of his strength.

Sam could see he was struggling but he shot her a quick smile of gratitude. Her words gave him the extra surge of power he needed. _She hadn't let Kevin touch her_.

"But ya let him shag you, didn't ya?" Kevin yelled in outrage.

Samantha smiled, locking her eyes on Jonathan's. "I love him", she said. Now she wanted to strike a blow of her own and injure Kevin with her words. "I shagged his brains out, repeatedly", she declared brazenly. "But you? You never stood a chance!" Kevin's head snapped back at the cruelty of her words. He emitted a deep growl—she was the matador and he the dying bull.

Samantha took no pleasure in the moment; Angela's shocked gasp behind her and her father's look of dismay made her stop. The last thrust of the sword had done the deed. Kevin's wound was palpable. She'd fought back and hurt him where it mattered most—his manly pride.

"Samantha …" Tony warned her. Kevin was becoming increasingly difficult to hold. Sam's declaration of love and 'shagging' had the unwelcome effect of making his already struggling prisoner even more unruly.

When the police finally arrived, Tony and Jonathan gratefully surrendered their charge. Their arms were burning from the effort it had taken to hold Kevin back. Charges were pressed and Kevin was led away in handcuffs screaming about whores, billboards and taxis that had stolen his luggage.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Tony felt powerful, like his old self, like he did during his heyday playing for the Cardinals. He'd defeated an enemy and protected his daughter. This battle was won. Still riding high, the rush of that fight returned his battered ego to normal. He strutted about the house like a proud peacock.

"He's gone Angela!" Tony told her as they got ready for bed. "You should have seen the way I held him down against that piano. I've still got it!" he declared proudly.

"Did you think you'd lost it?" she asked him.

"Can't say that the vasectomy helped", he admitted.

"Oh Tony … I know that was hard for you. But a vasectomy doesn't diminish your masculinity. If anything, it shows me how secure you are in your manhood. I'm proud of you, Honey." Angela lightly skimmed her fingers up Tony's muscled bicep. "You are a very _manly_ man." She punctuated her words with kisses along his collarbone and shoulder.

"Yeah? Manly, huh? I can show you _manly_", he told her with a seductive smile on his face.

"Tony, um … the doctor hasn't cleared you yet …" Angela reminded him.

"Don't worry, Angela. I don't need a doctor's clearance for what I have in mind right now." Tony slowly unbuttoned Angela's pyjama top and slid the silky fabric down her arms. "You'll see, Sweetheart", he whispered. He kissed her deeply, seducing with his hands and mouth. Angela quickly understood that indeed no doctor's orders were needed. With a bit of creativity and imagination, he was able to bring her to incredible peaks of ecstasy over and over again that night.

XXXXXXXXXX

"So you still love me, huh?" Jon smiled at Samantha. Tony and Angela had gone to bed early and the kids were up watching some television together. They both needed extra time to calm down after the blowout with Kevin.

"You know I do. I never stopped, Jon", she replied while evenly holding his love-struck gaze. But Samantha wanted better for him. As much as it killed her inside, she didn't want to hold him back. "I love you enough to let you go. You deserve to be with a woman who'll have a long lifespan and can pop out lots of babies."

"What the hell, Samantha! I don't want a baby-popper!" he cried indignantly. "I want you!"

"But Jonathan", she reverted to his childhood name as though explaining something to an imbecile, "I'm probably going to die young, remember?"

"Well if you do, I'll regret not having this time together. I'd regret it for the rest of my life. Is that what you'd want for me? To be a sad, old man crying over what we could have had?" Jon was laying it on thick now but he could see that his words were having an effect. Samantha was blinking repeatedly, her brain processing what he'd said.

"Don't you think it's best to cut romantic ties now? That way, when I die you won't be as sad." Samantha was starting to cave, her tone uncertain and argument not well thought out.

"Boo?" Jonathan leaned in toward her and cupped her face in his hands. "If you die before me, a part of me will die alongside you. And if I had to swallow the regret that we weren't together while we had the chance, it would destroy me."

"You'd take that risk? Risk more pain from loving me?" She searched his face and saw the answer staring back at her.

"What's love without risk, Sam? I love you … I've loved you since I was thirteen and keeping it a secret was brutal. I never dared hope that you might love me back one day. But when you did, it was the most incredible gift that anybody could have ever offered me. I treasure it. Your love means everything to me. It means more than all of the obstacles we face. You are my all, Boo."

Samantha could feel the tears welling in her eyes. Jon's love was selfless; a sharp contrast to Kevin's lust and possessiveness. Her arguments against being together floated away like dandelion fluff in the wind. "Are you sure?" she asked him. He nodded and took hold of both her hands.

"Sam, do you want to go for a drive?"

"What now? It's past eleven. Dad and Angela are already in bed and …" she trailed off wanting to know more. "A drive? Where to?"

"Come on, I'll take you there. It's a surprise. Besides, I heard … uh … moans coming from that bedroom … ones I can't un-hear. Maybe it's best we get outta here and let them be", he chuckled.

Samantha giggled. "You're really something, you know that? You're willing to love me even though I'm probably going to die before I'm thirty. And you held down a drunken, six foot Irishman for close to an hour today."

"I guess you could say that _barfbag_ grew up, huh?" Jon teased her about the cruel nickname she used to call him.

"Oh Jon, if I could take that back, I would. All the times I called you a dork, geek, nerd, loser …"

"Enough! Sam, you're giving me a geek flashback here."

"There's nothing geeky about you anymore. Little Jonathan Bower, reptile lover and member of the math squad… you're all grown up."


	16. Lunacy (mini chapter, addendum chap 15)

**Chapter 16**

_Author's Note: What can I say? It's a full moon tonight … clear, bright and shining through my window. Does the full moon make us feel a bit crazy? Perhaps, especially for a young woman recovering from an abusive boyfriend's final visit (yes, Kevin is gone) and feeling haunted by a sad family legacy. Just a short, mini-chapter that I wanted to post while the moon was still full. Really more of an addendum to Chapter 15. More Tony and Angela to come later of course. ;) As of now, they're still … ahem … enjoying Brooklyn Tony's mojo. _

"Where are we going?" Samantha inquired from the passenger seat of Jon's car. It was close to midnight and they'd gone for an impromptu drive, seeking fresh air after the violent confrontation with Kevin earlier. Kevin was gone and Jon wanted to be with her—Samantha felt euphoric. Stress and fear melted away, replaced by a feverish joy. Convinced she only had a short time to live, Sam never again wanted to waste a second of her life on the _Kevins_ of this world. She wanted to follow her own heart song. She excitedly leaned forward in her seat, feeling as though her chest might burst.

"We're almost there", Jon said as he turned his Honda Civic onto a dirt road and up a steep little hill, parking the car at the edge of the steppe. "You're going to love the view from here, especially tonight. It's a full moon."

"You brought me to _Make-Out Hill_?" she giggled. The place was well known amongst the high school set. Samantha herself had been here quite a few times with Jesse.

"You know it?" Jon sounded so disappointed. He thought the little hill, away from the city lights was his own personal discovery. He'd never seen any people here before. After Sam's departure for Ireland last year, he'd spent a lot of time simply driving around aimlessly. When he'd lucked upon this spot one night, admiring the starry sky, he'd returned to it over and over again for peace of mind and tranquility of spirit. "I didn't realize it had such a tacky name. It's so beautiful here."

"Sure is. So, you didn't bring me here to make out?" she teased him.

"Not specifically but now that you mentioned it …", he leaned in toward her, pausing for permission. "May I kiss you, Boo?" He wanted to be gentle with her; the brutality she'd suffered at Kevin's hand made him extra cautious. He didn't want to frighten her away, not when they were so close to getting back together again.

Samantha eagerly met his lips, surrendering to her yearning. The taste of his kisses was familiar and comforting. She was finally home. With no hesitation, she pulled off her T-shirt and flung it on the back seat.

"Sam?" Jon was torn between a powerful desire to be with her and uncertainty at the rashness of her action. "I don't want you to regret … it might be too soon …" he mumbled between kisses. But his brain and his body were at war with each other and being that he was a hormonal young man, his body was winning. She'd slipped off her bra and was beginning to unfasten her jeans.

"Shhhh … no such thing as _too soon_. You're in college now … life's short", she breathed into his mouth.

"I can't resist you …", he cried into her neck. Her pace was too fast and frenzied but there was no possible way he could pull away from her now. His body was responding of its own accord.

"Then don't", she replied. "But it's cramped in here … need more space." She looked around and saw that no other people were around. It was late and the hilltop was deserted. She opened the car door and stepped outside, then stepped out of her remaining garments. The cool evening air hit her nude body, sending a chill of exhilaration through her. She felt incredibly alive, adrenaline and sexual desire coursing through her, setting her blood afire.

Jon couldn't tear his eyes away from her; she was magnificent, her radiant skin glowing in the bright moonlight, goddess-like. She ran a short distance from the car and peered over the edge of the cliff. "One short step and I'd fall in … so close to death … it's terrifying!" she giggled somewhat hysterically as though drunk on moonbeams.

"Get back from there! Are you crazy?" he shouted at her. He ran out of the car and brusquely grabbed her arm, pulling her back from the edge. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Relax", she shrugged him off. "I wasn't going to fall in. But it's so exciting to look down. Look!" she urged him, beseeching him with dilated eyes.

"Sam, I think you'd better get back into the car and put your clothes back on." Jon's brain took over from his libido. He was concerned about her reckless behaviour.

"You want me to put my clothes back on?" she asked him incredulously. "You sure about that?" she sauntered toward him, seductive, wanting.

"Oh my god … Sam … please. Not now, not like this. You're not yourself. I can't take advantage of you in this state", he whimpered. He wanted her so badly and she was throwing herself at him. He'd never had to reject a naked girl before. Like a starving man refusing a feast, it pained him tremendously.

"You look like you want to", she smirked, putting her hand against the crotch of his jeans.

"No! Sam. I'm not …_ aaarrrggghhh_", he yelled in frustration, turning away from her. The sight of her soft, feminine curves was overwhelming him. He refused to look at her and when she stepped into his visual field, he screwed his eyes shut tightly.

"Get dressed", he told her. "_Please _get dressed and get in the car. I don't know what's gotten into you but this isn't right. I can't do it, not like this."

"Fine then. Be like that", she grumbled. Her manic elation deflated as quickly as it had come and she stumbled back, wondering what the hell had just happened. Embarrassed now, she quickly grabbed her clothes and threw them on.

"I'm done", she informed him tersely.

"I'm sorry Sam, but it would have been wrong", he apologized to her, still feeling confused and a bit dazed.

"No, Jon. I'm the one who's sorry. I have no idea what got into me", she sniffled. The wind picked up, blowing clouds across the clear night and concealing the moonlight. She felt cold and adrift in the darkness. What lunacy had just possessed her?

"Oh no, don't cry. Sam? It's okay, shhhh", he held her against him when she burst into tears of remorse and shame.

"Maybe it was all too much; the stuff with Kevin and what we talked about at the cemetery. Sam? Are you okay?" Jon was worried. Samantha's odd behavior was surely a severe reaction to all the stress she'd been under lately. He needed to get her home now.

"I will be", she sighed. She dried her tears and blew her nose. "Do you still want to be with me?" she asked him weakly.

"Yeah Sam, I do. I really, really do. Slowly though. Can we go slowly?" he put his hand to her cheek and placed a butterfly light kiss against her lips.

"Uh-huh", she said. Samantha looked at him, grateful for his maturity and presence of mind. She'd clearly just lost hers for a moment. "And thanks, Jon. Thanks for not taking advantage. I feel so stupid now … what is wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, Sam. Nothing at all. You're perfect and I love you", he reassured her, pressing his lips to hers yet again. "Maybe you only need some time-to process things."

"Yeah, time", she repeated sadly. "Time."


	17. First Day

**Chapter 17**

It was time to return to work. Angela woke early and readied herself while Tony tended to the babies. She carefully selected her outfit for the day; a power red business suit with a crisp white blouse. Between Rose and Victoria, she'd spent too much time away from her agency, even if only intermittently. She hadn't even set foot there in the past five weeks. Jack had sent her some work via Mona and she'd distractedly shuffled through the accounts between bottle feedings and diaper changes. But it wasn't the same as being hands-on and meeting with her clients in person. She desperately needed to get back to it. Jack had told her he was drowning in work, putting in fourteen hour days. His wife, Carol was not happy.

Angela slowly applied her make-up, delighted to have a reason to wear some. She'd missed dressing up and wearing lipstick. No jeans covered in spit-up for her today. Hair swept up, make-up freshly applied, business suit looking sharp, Angela smiled at her reflection. She couldn't believe that her skirt zipped up and was barely snug at all. She looked good—like her _pre-double-baby_-self, her executive self. And she felt good; Tony had been an exceptionally inventive lover last night-completely selfless, only giving of himself. They had done a few things they'd never tried before. Her bones still hadn't quite re-solidified.

In the kitchen, Tony was preparing breakfast. He hoped that Angela wasn't going to revert to her old "juice and coffee" standby. Mixing those two together would give him a terrible stomach ache. He wanted her to actually ingest some food. While holding Victoria in one arm and keeping an eye on Rose in her highchair (happily flinging Cheerios to the floor), he scrambled eggs with his other hand, repeatedly checking on the toddler, then on the frying pan and back again. He had this down. Tony smiled inwardly; he and Angela had shared quite the night even if they hadn't been able to consummate things in the traditional sense of the word. Still healing from his vasectomy, he'd found rather, er, creative ways of pleasing his wife.

"Good morning", she said as she entered the kitchen. "Hello Baby … Mummy wants to hold you." Angela stretched her arms out to Victoria but Tony held the baby more closely.

"Better not, Sweetheart. Wouldn't want spit-up on that suit. Wow, don't you look beautiful today? Very presidential!" She did a quick twirl for him and smiled. "And I feel great, Tony!" She moved closer to him and lowered her voice to a seductive drawl. "That was, um, some night last night. You were so, umm, manly. What you did … it gave me the most mind-blowing or …oh … oh, Jonathan. Good morning!" she quickly reverted to mom-mode when her son appeared.

Jonathan tried to pretend he hadn't heard what he'd almost heard. "Want me to hold the baby, Tony?" he offered.

"Thanks Pal. Is Sam up yet? She promised to help with the babies today." Tony handed Victoria and her bottle over to Jonathan. "Remember to burp her afterwards. Thanks."

"Sam? No, she's not up yet. Maybe you should let her sleep in today," Jon said, not proffering any explanation. He was still rather concerned about Sam's state of mind. After her uncharacteristic display of mania last night, she'd fallen into a dead sleep while still in the car. He'd had to carry her up to bed. She hadn't even stirred and when he'd checked on her just now; she was in the exact same position he'd left her in, still wearing her jeans and T-shirt. He shuddered at the memory of her teetering on the edge of that cliff, looking down, and only a breath away from falling in. He wondered if he should mention it to any of the adults-he wanted Sam to get help but he didn't want to rat her out. And he certainly wasn't going to mention that she'd impetuously stripped off her clothes in the moonlight.

"Sleep in? No way. She decided not to get a summer job so she could help me watch her sisters. This _is_ her job. I'm gonna go wake her up …"

"No Tony. Don't!" Jon exclaimed.

"Why not?" Tony asked him, suspicious now.

"Yeah, why not?" Angela chimed in, curious too.

"Uh, uh, well, I think she's tired. She needs her rest … all this stuff with Kevin yesterday and … the other stuff …"

"What other stuff?" Tony asked.

"Never mind. I didn't mean anything by it." Jonathan had said too much. Four inquiring parental eyes bore into him with equal intensity.

Angela didn't know if Jonathan knew about Sam's fears regarding her heavy cancer heritage. She held her spa conversation with Sam in confidence and didn't want to spill the beans over her quick cup of coffee. She was about to tell Tony to let Samantha sleep in when Mona appeared through the back door, wanting breakfast.

"Good morning everyone. My, my Angela, don't you look spiffy today," Mona greeted her daughter. She then paused mid-step, pretended to sniff the air around her and broke into a huge, knowing grin. "Singing Maria Von Trapp songs today, dear?" Mona and her sixth sense; she always knew. She winked at Tony before sitting down across from Jonathan.

"Aww, but some of us seem rather frustrated," she mocked her grandson with fake sympathy.

"Grandma, cut it out!" Jon had often wondered why he couldn't have a _normal_ grandmother, the kind who knitted and wore support hose. Instead, he was stuck with a sex-obsessed, promiscuous clairvoyant for a granny. And he still hadn't forgiven her for the humiliation of disrupting what should have been his _first time_. She'd taken too much pleasure in that one.

"Is Sherri not putting out?" Mona asked innocently, spreading butter on her toast.

"Mother!" Angela gasped. She knew she should be used to her mother's inappropriate comments but they were usually directed at herself, not at her seventeen-year-old son.

"That's it. I'm out of here. Gross, Grandma! Besides, Sherri dumped me for Al. They're a couple now", he threw back as he exited the kitchen, plopping Victoria into Mona's lap. "Good bye everybody. See you this afternoon. Hope your first day back to work goes well, Mom." He gave his mom a peck on the cheek and practically ran out the door, away from Mona.

"Bye Jon. Uh, Sherri and Al?!" Tony said, stunned.

"Oh, so he's single again", Mona observed. "Hmm, and now that Kevin's gone, so is Samantha. Well, how's that for coincidence?"

"Don't go there, Mother," Angela reprimanded her.

"I'm not … I'm merely making an observation. Speaking of, where is Samantha this morning? Has the poor kid recovered from Kevin's visit last night?" Mona was proud of Sam and still inwardly chuckling at the girl's fighting words to her violent ex, 'shagged his brains out repeatedly'. Ha, that was a good one.

"Sleeping in", Tony mumbled. "She's supposed to help with the girls while Angela's at work."

"What? Can't you simply leave her be? She needs to take it easy after everything she's been through this past month. And now that she's convinced she's going to die like her moth … oh, ooops." Mona had put the proverbial foot in her mouth—both of them actually. Angela was vigorously shaking her head but the secret had already escaped her mother's lips like a small ominous cloud, and there was no shoving it back in.

"She's what?" Tony asked, stunned. "Sam's scared of dying?" He looked to Mona and Angela for answers. "You keeping secrets from me about my daughter again, Angela?" he asked incredulously.

"I … well …at the spa, it was girl talk and she expressed that she might …Tony, you need to talk to her. When Samantha confides in me, I keep it confidential. Unlike some people, Mother."

"Did Samantha say she was scared of dying like Marie?" Tony's dark eyes were so filled with anguish and dismay that Angela felt obliged to comfort him.

"Tony, I don't want you to worry but perhaps you should speak to Sam. Find out how she's doing, without mentioning Mother's _faux pas_. I, uh, found her sleeping with Marie's photo the other night and she's become quite concerned about how much she resembles her. She says she doesn't want kids because she's afraid of leaving them motherless," Angela explained.

"My _faux pas_? You just repeated the entire conversation. Great confidentiality there, Angela." Mona rolled her eyes.

"You're the one who let the cat out of the bag. I'm only trying to clarify what you ..."

"Ladies, enough!" Tony shouted. "Don't you two have a train to catch?" Angela looked at her watch and quickly jumped out of her chair.

"Come on Mother. We have to go. Jack has a million things to go over with me today, including the new software and modem technology. I'm going to require a crash course in computers, familiarize myself with all of the accounts and … oooh, good-bye." Angela pressed a kiss to Tony's lips and kissed each baby girl on the head. Despite Tony's warnings, she scooped up Victoria and held her tightly against her breast. "I'm going to miss you, Sweetie. You be good for Daddy and Sam. Reluctantly, she placed the baby in her father's arms and inhaled the sweet smell of her baby's head one last time. "I'm going to miss the girls", she rasped, a lump forming in her throat.

"Hey, Ange, it's okay. They're in good hands. And when you come home tonight, you can give them extra cuddles and feed them, okay?" Tony hugged her while holding the baby between them. Rose wanted in on the affection and began to fight the confines of her highchair with a loud, "Maaaammmaaaaammaaaa". Angela turned to look at her fiery toddler and swallowed hard. She felt guilty about leaving and Rose's tears felt like accusations.

"Angela, we have to leave now or we'll miss the train", Mona urged her. She could see the conflicting emotions on her daughter's face; her desire to stay and comfort Rose and her need to catch the train.

Tony ushered Angela out the door with a final kiss, gently squeezing her shoulder. "It's going to be alright. You can come home early tonight." She nodded and exited the kitchen; her last image was of Rose crying for her, tiny toddler hands reaching out in vain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony deliberated about waking Sam. It was almost noon and the girl still hadn't woken up. He was managing his housework and childcare duties fine on his own but she'd promised to help him and Angela was giving her a symbolic allowance for her troubles. However, instead of taking Rose to the park or changing Victoria's diapers, she was still fast asleep. Besides, he was concerned about her fears and wanted to broach the topic with her before the others arrived home. Did everybody know what was going on with his daughter except for him? He paced in front of her bedroom door, loudly cleared his throat and ran the vacuum cleaner in the hallway. Nothing. Unable to stand it anymore, he knocked at her door but there was no reply. Tony began to worry. He slowly opened Sam's bedroom door and saw that she was out cold, wearing yesterday's clothes.

"Sam?" he lightly shook her awake, then a bit harder when she didn't stir.

"Dad?" Sam shifted in her bed and slowly opened her heavy eyelids.

"Are you alright, Sam? Feeling okay?" Tony put his hand to her cool forehead.

"Tired. What time is it?" she asked through a deep stretch.

"Almost noon. You need to get up. You promised to take Rose to the park this afternoon."

"Oh, okay. I'll be up in a sec," she told him. Tony left her room to give her privacy and she promptly fell back to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After a jam-packed morning spent learning about all of her new clientele, Angela was submerged under mountains of paper work, phone calls to return and meetings to schedule. Jack had shown her the new computer system, familiarized her with several accounts, and then unceremoniously dumped his extraneous workload back where it belonged; on the boss' desk. Despite the heavy load, Angela was in her element. The non-stop ringing of office phones had replaced the sound of crying babies but the fast-paced agency environment kept her challenged and busy and she didn't notice how quickly the day was flying by. She lost herself in her accounts, barely stopping to take a bathroom break. At about five, her growling stomach began to rumble in protest. Angela looked up from her papers, removed her glasses to rub her tired eyes and blearily checked her wrist watch. The entire day had simply elapsed like sand through an hourglass. She scanned her desk, and sighed at the huge pile of untouched folders in front of her. Distracted, she looked at her personal photos and realized in dismay that the most recent family picture she had was from two years ago, before the girls. The girls! Suddenly overcome with a pang of guilt and maternal longing, Angela bolted out of her inner office.

"Mother!" she startled Mona, who was on the phone. Her mother held up her hand, signalling Angela to wait.

"Yes, Reed, of course. Umm hmmmm. Yes, right. I'll get right on that for you. Oh dinner? Well … you know what they say about mixing business with pleasure. _(pause)_ Oh, well in that case it would be a _pleasure_ doing _business_ with you at Chez Rene. Yes, yes, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

"Mother, did you just make a dinner date with my biggest client, Reed Hamilton?" Angela asked, aghast.

"It's a business dinner, Dear. Reed is a big bore," Mona told her, although she loved flirting with the man. He infuriated her, at times bored her but he was sexy and she felt as though she'd known him for years. Perhaps in another life, she told herself.

"Yes, well you make sure it's only business," Angela cautioned her. Then she got to her real reason for interrupting Mona. "Mother, do you have a picture of the girls on you? I don't have one and I need to look at them," she declared rather frantically.

Mona noted her daughter's somewhat agitated demeanor and appearance. Angela's upsweep had come undone; her hair was loose and messy and she was impatiently tapping her pencil on the edge of Mona's desk. "Of course I have a photo of my two beautiful granddaughters. It's right here," Mona announced, picking up a framed photo from her desk. Angela snatched it out of her mother's fingers and stared at it closely, stroking the sweet baby faces with her index finger.

"Are you alright, Angela?"

"I miss them. It's hard, Mother. I … I have so much work to do and can't possibly leave yet. Rose was crying for me when I left … it's not easy leaving them," she sniffled, her voice cracking with emotion. She felt torn; the powerful desire to be with her babies came from deep within her heart. When she was apart from them, she felt incomplete and somehow inadequate as a mother. Yet when she was away from The Bower Agency, she felt anxious about her accounts and how much work she was delegating to others. She hated feeling left out of the loop when it came to her own agency. She was naturally inclined to take the lead and be in charge of every single account. Delegating felt like bailing. Besides, she knew she was the best person for the job. Her creative brain had taken too long of a hiatus; new ideas were simply bubbling forth, begging to be expressed.

"Angela, it's time to leave. The work will still be here tomorrow morning. Or, if you must, you can take some of it home. If you stay too late, you'll miss seeing the girls before their bedtime."

"Oh, Rose … I need to give her a hug," Angela cried. "But I haven't even looked at the _Bernier Account_ and I promised Jack I'd take it off his hands so he can see his wife. I'm meeting with Mr. Bernier tomorrow morning, Mother. I have several hours of prep work to do." A new headache was forming across her forehead, like a vice gripping her entire skull. She felt torn.

"Angela, you need to calm down. Take the _Bernier Account_ home with you, say goodnight to the girls, and then do your prep work after they've gone to bed." Mona realized that Angela's first day back would be challenging and talked her daughter down. Having two babies, only a year apart and missing out on so much work was a stressful situation for any working mother. Angela had worked during her pregnancy with Victoria but the amount of work had been manageable and she'd even had the luxury of taking Fridays off. But now, the accounts were multiplying and after the success of Reed Hamilton's soap campaign, clients were banging on her door. She no longer needed to source them-they came to her. Angela simply couldn't turn work away; the fear of another recession always loomed close. She fully expected a 'rainy day' to hit her agency again and wanted to create a safety net of clientele to carry her through the next recession. It was a taxing inner battle to balance the needs of her agency with those of the babies.

"Do the prep work from home? After the girls have gone to bed?" Angela repeated. Uh … yes, I suppose I could do that. But I'll have to eat quickly and work late and will only be able to spend …"

"Calm down, Dear. You're stressing me out! Angela, I think it's time to go home now. You can do some work on the train. Remember, Rose needs her hug. And if we don't leave the office within the next half hour, both girls will already be in bed by the time you get home. You'll miss seeing them completely."

XXXXXX

"Samantha! Wake up. The District Attorney's office is on the phone for you." Tony loudly barged into Sam's room once again, rather annoyed to find that his daughter had fallen back to sleep.

"The who?" Sam asked, not yet fully awake. She sat up at her father's urging; her head feeling as though it had been stuffed with cotton. When she moved her limbs to get out of bed, they were heavy like concrete.

"An assistant D.A. It's about the charges against Kevin. Move it, Sam! Pick up the extension in the hallway." Tony carried the little hallway phone halfway to Sam's room but the cord wouldn't allow him to get it any closer. He picked up the receiver and held it up in the air, impatiently waiting for Sam walk the tiny distance over. She was sloth-like in her movements.

"Yeah, hello?" she murmured into the phone, still drowsy. "This is Samantha. I do? _(pause)_ But … but …. I don't want to see him again. _(pause) _Right. Yes, I do understand but isn't there another way to prosecute him? _(pause)_ I'd really rather not! _(pause)_ Uh-huh, I see. Oh. _(pause)_ Fine, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

"Well?" Tony asked. "What was that about?"

"I'm meeting with an Assistant District Attorney tomorrow morning. I'm going to have to testify against Kevin in open court," she replied. Sam sat down heavily on the little hallway bench and put her head in her hands.

"Hey, Honey, it's going to be alright. I'll come with you. This is your chance to get justice for the way Kevin treated you," he reassured her. Sam looked up at her father with large, frightened eyes. The thought seeing Kevin again and speaking in front of a judge was daunting. She nodded at her dad and slowly stood up to get ready. Every movement felt like a tremendous effort. She wanted nothing more than to return to her warm bed and sleep the day away.

Tony wanted to talk to her, ask her about Marie and her fears of dying. He was about to open his mouth to broach the topic but Samantha had disappeared back into her room and shut the door in his face.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hi Honey, I'm home!" Angela called out. She'd brought the Bernier file with her and planned to work on it after dinner. Tony came out to greet her, Victoria in his hands. She took the baby from him and smothered her with kisses. "I missed you Baby. Ummm, you smell so good," she cooed.

"Hi. Do I get a kiss?" Tony asked her. He loved seeing her bond with their child; Angela had a strong maternal bent which he found incredibly sexy. He also found her sexy in that little red business suit. He smiled at her and placed a soft kiss against her cheek. "I missed you today. How did it go?"

Angela handed Victoria back to Tony and removed her coat and shoes. "It was very busy. There's a lot of information for me to process and we have several new clients. In fact, tomorrow morning I'm meeting a Mr. Bernier for the first time. I'm going to have to prep before bed."

"Aww, you brought work home on the first day? You're not going to stay up late, are you?"

"I might have to, Tony. It was either bring work home or come home late. I wanted to see the babies before bed. Um, where's Rose?"

"At the park with the kids. They already ate and wanted to tire Rose out before bed. They'll be back shortly … come and eat. I waited for you. Come on Mone … you too. Chicken Parmesan and green salad."

"Anything for dessert?" Angela asked, a mischievous grin on her face. She was so happy to be back home and her mouth was positively watering.

"Walnut fudge brownies with ice-cream," Tony replied. Then, more quietly so only she could hear, "and if you play your cards right … maybe some _dessert_ in the bedroom tonight. If I can pry you away from your … work."

She leaned in closely to him and seductively whispered in his ear, "Tony, if the _dessert_ you have in mind is anything like last night's, I'm going to be completely unprepared for my meeting tomorrow."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The walk from the house to the neighbourhood park was short. Samantha and Jonathan had brought Rose's stroller just in case but the energetic toddler was eager to walk. She still needed to hold a grown-up's hand but her little feet traveled fast, like Fred Flintstone's beneath his car.

"You coming Sam?" Jon asked her. She was lagging behind, ambling along so lethargically. He had to keep up with Rose's tugging and pointing. The park was a most exciting place for a one-year old. "Wing … wing … up," she said over and over again.

"Wing up?" Jon had no idea what the baby was talking about.

"She wants to go up on the swing," Sam translated. She broke into a half-hearted jog to catch up.

Jonathan dutifully placed his baby sister in the little belted swing and gently pushed it from behind. "There you go, Rose."

Samantha collapsed onto the nearby bench and stared out, not really seeing or caring. She hadn't been able to shake this exhaustion all day. Sludge ran through her veins and moving required a herculean effort.

"Sam? Do you want a turn pushing Rose?" Jon asked.

"No."

"You really look tired. What did you do all day? Chase after this monkey?" he asked her.

"No."

Jon paused from pushing the swing, to study Sam. She was yawning again and looked like she wanted to put her head down on the bench.

"Hey, how come you're so tired?" he asked again, feeling a bit worried.

"Dunno. I slept all day, Jon. After last night … at _Make-Out Hill_, I felt so flat. So … spent. Like I couldn't move," she tried to explain. But even speaking was an effort. She yawned again and shielded her eyes from the setting sun.

Jon carried the now protesting Rose out of the swing and carried her over to Sam. "We need to talk about last night. You weren't yourself Boo. So close to the edge of that cliff-it scared me! And why did you feel the need to, er, take all your clothes off?"

Rose didn't care about their conversation; she toddled over to the baby slide and tried to climb the three metal steps by herself.

"I don't know what I was thinking! I felt possessed last night, as if this incredible beam of energy had landed in my chest and was bursting out! And when the moonlight called out to me … I had to meet it, naked." Jon looked worried so Sam amended to say, "It doesn't make sense to me today, but it all felt perfectly logical last night."

Jon wanted her to keep talking. She'd been under so much stress and perhaps it had been too much for her. "And you wanted sex too?"

Embarrassed now, she looked away from him. "Yeah. The beam inside of me … felt like fire. It was consuming me … it was very, uh, arousing. But Jon, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I threw myself at you and thank you for not …"

"It's okay, Sam. I could see you weren't yourself. You need to rest. Kevin's gone and you can relax now."

"No, I can't. I have to testify against him in open court. Tomorrow morning, I have an appointment with the ADA. Jon, I really don't want to do any of it. I only want to sleep. I'm so tired."

"Where's Rose?" Jon suddenly shot up and scanned the park. He panicked and began running around the baby slide structure. Sam continued to sit on the bench, not responding. Jon's heart rammed up into his throat … he couldn't see Rose.

"Rose?!" he called out sharply. "Rose, where are you?"

"Daggaaaa, baaaaah," she shouted back, appearing suddenly from behind the climbing wall about ten feet away.

"Oh my god! You scared me, you little monkey. Come here!" Jonathan picked her up and held her tightly. He looked over at Samantha, who remained slumped on the bench. She hadn't even responded to Rose's little disappearing act.

Jon could see that something was wrong with her; and it wasn't mere stress. From the bit he'd gleaned about psychology in his pre-med courses, he knew that her talk of "beams" and "consuming inner fires" and "meeting the moon naked" wasn't normal. Her current display of post-manic exhaustion and complete apathy wasn't sitting well with him at all. If she'd been alone with Rose, the child might have gotten injured or simply wandered off into traffic. He shuddered at the thought. She shouldn't be left alone with the babies, he realized. The burden of this knowledge sat heavily on his heart as they slowly made their way home, she trudging behind.


	18. Samantha

**Chapter 18**

Tough and eager ADA, Amy Chow scrutinized the young woman seated across from her. She seemed not to care about pressing charges against Kevin McNally, nor did she seem particularly forthcoming.

"Do you understand that without your testimony, I don't have much of a case? I need more than what you're telling me," the ADA admonished Samantha. Sam yawned loudly without covering her mouth. A deep exhaustion had settled into her very bones, making movement, speech and human interaction somewhat of a challenge. Her father had driven her to the appointment with the ADA, but had been relegated to a waiting room while she provided the state with her evidence against Kevin.

"I'm sorry, but is this process boring you?" Amy asked, annoyed. She wished she had a cattle prod to wake the girl.

"No, um, sorry. I'm just so very tired today," Sam apologized. She wanted to return home, although she knew that the babies were waiting to be taken care of and the mere thought of tending to both Rose and Victoria all afternoon was almost too much to bear. Mona had taken the morning off work to watch them and this afternoon, her father had errands to run outside of the house. She was going to be stuck babysitting by herself.

"I'm trying to make this as painless as possible for you, Miss Micelli. How about I ask you questions and you simply answer?"

"Fine," was her unenthusiastic reply. She was dreading her date in open court facing Kevin. It was mere days away.

"Kevin McNally, the defendant, punched you in the face at _Al's Salon_ on the afternoon of May twenty seventh. This act of violence was witnessed by your stepbrother, Jonathan Bower as well as the owner of the salon, Alfonse Bertelli and another client, Sherri Parker. Is this correct?"

"Yes."

"The defendant is claiming that Mr. Bower and Mr. Bertelli also hit him. Can you confirm this statement?"

Sam sighed loudly before replying. "After Kevin punched me, they hit him. But he hit them back harder. Jonathan had a black eye and Al … Alfonse had a bloodied nose. Then Kevin ran away."

"Why didn't you report this incident to the police at the time of its occurrence?" Amy Chow was miffed about that one. Her case hinged on Samantha's testimony and the girl hadn't even reported the assault until almost two weeks after the fact. Nor had she taken any photographs of the bruise that Kevin had supposedly given her. She required more evidence and she needed the girl to be convincing on the stand. As it was, her answers sounded sleepy and bored.

"I don't know," was the ineffective reply.

Amy clenched her teeth in frustration. She wanted to shake the dopey brunette into wakefulness.

"Alright then, shall we revisit the events of that night? Kevin McNally returned to your home, drunk and begging your forgiveness. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And your father, Tony Micelli called the police?" At least somebody in this family had common sense.

"Uh-huh."

"But you refused to press charges? Is that right, Miss Micelli?"

"Mmm."

"I beg your pardon?" Amy could see her case against Kevin slipping through her fingers. She was beginning to wonder if she could put this kid on the stand.

"Yes, my father called the police but I didn't press charges. The cop charged him with public drunkenness and … and …. Uh, he peed on our roses." Sam ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes for several seconds. The memory of Kevin's drunken urination on the rose trellis made her shudder with revulsion.

"The vandalism charge didn't stick. He slept off the booze and was given a fine," Amy clarified.

"Sure."

Amy took a deep breath. Samantha's unenthusiastic monosyllabic responses were grating on her nerves. She was, however, accustomed to having reluctant witnesses when it came to domestic abuse cases. But this girl didn't seem reluctant—she seemed to be half asleep. Dragging answers out of her was like forcing a horse to drink after you'd led it to water. She wanted to shove Sam's face in a water trough, metaphorically speaking, of course.

"How about we talk about the last time you saw the defendant? He showed up at your home once again?"

"Yeah." Sam blinked slowly and sighed loudly. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep, not think about Kevin. She'd been having frequent nightmares about him hitting her, kissing her, grabbing her, pouring hot milk on her. She'd wake up drenched in sweat but the tide of fatigue would overwhelm her and pull her under again. He kept reappearing in her dreams; an unwelcome intruder, always touching her. She was having difficulty concentrating on the ADA's questions, which were being fired at her in rapid succession, like a batting cage pitching machine hurling fast balls at her head. Samantha wanted to duck.

"Could you elaborate on that incident, please?" Amy Chow waited, pen in hand, poised over her legal notepad.

"Um … well … Kevin came back and my dad was home alone with the babies. He tried to block him but Kevin pushed his way in. My dad was recovering from surgery and was a bit weak still." Sam paused to rest—she was running on fumes and this interview was taking its toll.

"And? Then what happened?"

"Jon came home and defended Dad from Kevin. Then we … that is, my stepmom, her mother and I returned home and found Dad and Jon holding Kevin down. Then Angela, my stepmom called 911."

"And this time you decided to press charges? Why did you change your mind?"

"Because Kevin went nuts! He was threatening me and calling me names. He seemed dangerous. And he'd just invaded my home—he wouldn't leave."

"I have to ask you something, Miss Micelli. According to the defendant, you taunted him about your sexual relationship with your step-brother. Is that true?"

"What?!" The question startled Samantha. She leaned backward in her chair, wanting to get the hell out of the ADA's office.

"I'm asking you because you'll be asked this question on the witness stand. Did you taunt Kevin? Did you tell him that you had … hold on, let me get the exact wording here," Amy fussed with her notes until she found what she was looking for. She raised her eyebrows at the words on the page, then calmly lifted her eyes to stare down her client. She needed to see how the girl might react when the defense attorney interrogated her. "Did you tell Kevin that you "repeatedly, er shagged him", in reference to your stepbrother? Did you incite his rage?"

"I … but it wasn't like that. He was attacking me! I was only trying to …"Sam sputtered but was cut off by the ADA's hand.

"No. You can't respond like that on the witness stand. Hmmm, the fact that you had that type of relationship with your stepbrother and flaunted it in front of your boyfriend isn't going to make you very sympathetic to the jury, or the judge." Amy stood up and pondered her next move, unaware that Samantha wanted to disappear beneath the desk.

"Why does this have to come out in court? My past relationship with Jon isn't anybody's business. Kevin hit me after I cut my hair against his wishes and stood up to him. When he found out about Jon, he went ballistic on my dad, Jon and me! My baby sisters were upstairs—he was a threat! The fact that I 'shagged' somebody a year ago shouldn't matter." Samantha began to wake up a bit. She was indignant and angry now.

"It does matter. Trust me, the defense is going to try and discredit you. It happens all the time. The worst are the rape cases; the defense often tears the victim to shreds. You need to be strong and state the facts. You can't give wishy-washy answers or fall asleep on the stand. Get it?"

"Yeah, _I get it_. I _get_ that if I testify against Kevin, my sexual history is going to come out for the world to hear. I _get_ that I'm going to be blamed somehow and I _get_ that the defense is going to make me look like the guilty party." Samantha stood up and grabbed her cardigan and purse.

"Miss Micelli, where are you going?"

"I'm going home. I'm done here. I just want to forget this—Kevin can go back to Ireland and run his pub for all I care. I … I can't do this."

"But Miss Micelli, wait!" Amy Chow called out to her. Samantha didn't turn around; she had a sudden burst of anxiety-induced energy which propelled her out of that office and away from the ADA.

Tony stood up when Sam blindly bolted past the waiting area. "Sam?" he called to her, but she ignored him and continued to head toward the elevators. He ran behind her to catch up. "Hey, Honey, what happened?" She was breathing fast and appeared quite upset.

"I'm not doing this, Dad! I'm not testifying in open court. I'm done. Let's go home, now!"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down. What do you mean you're not testifying? Samantha, you have to."

"No, Dad, I don't. I don't have to do anything. You don't understand what it's like," she wanted to explain it to him but was unable to formulate a cohesive argument at the moment. She only wanted to go home and never, ever hear the name 'Kevin McNally' as long as she lived.

"No, no, no. We're not leaving," Tony decided. He didn't want Kevin on the loose. He gripped Samantha's upper arm, intending to march her back toward the ADA's office but his daughter had other ideas. She solidly planted her feet onto the floor and refused to budge.

"You're gonna have to drag me, Dad. I'm not doing it," she informed him, her chin jutting out defiantly.

"But Sam … he hit you. He needs to go to jail," Tony argued.

"I don't care anymore, Dad. I'm not going on the witness stand … if I do, they're gonna …" she stopped and bit her lip.

"They're gonna what?" Tony demanded.

"They're gonna bring up my sexual history and drag me through the mud. I can't do it, Dad. I just can't." Eyes shining darkly with unshed tears, she looked pleadingly at her father. "Dad, please, I want to go home." The anguish on her face knifed him. As much as he wanted Kevin behind bars, he didn't want to bully his daughter into doing something that distressed her this much. Tony sighed loudly and put his arm around Sam's shoulders.

"Will you at least get a restraining order against him?" he asked her. "I'm sure the ADA could do that for you right now. No testifying."

"Yeah? You'll be okay with only that?" she replied, surprised. She hadn't expected her dad to agree with her so easily.

"Sam, I'd do anything for you. Anything. If testifying is gonna be too stressful and difficult, then I support your decision not to. But I want the restraining order against him. That bastard isn't coming anywhere near you, ever again."

"Thanks Dad," she breathed out in relief. They walked back to ADA Chow's office, together.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The relentless, repetitive call of "Mama, maaammma, maaaaamaaaaaaaa," was being emitted at increasingly higher frequency and volume. Rose wasn't accustomed to her mother's prolonged daily absences and she was making her displeasure known, loudly. Victoria, unaccustomed to Rose's ceaseless shrieks responded in kind, crying even more loudly than her older sister. Battle of the bawling babies had begun and Samantha was caught in the middle, alone with them all afternoon.

"No, no, shhhh," Sam tried to soothe Rose. She picked up the sweaty toddler to hug and comfort her but Rose struggled and wriggled her way out of her big sister's arms. Unsure what to do, Sam plopped her in the playpen beside the living room couch and turned on the television, looking for some children's programming to distract Rose and drown out the deafening howls. Next, she turned her attention to Victoria, whose wails had reached an ear-piercing crescendo. Samantha held the small baby and carried her around the living room, lightly bouncing her with each step but the baby didn't feel comforted. She missed her mother as well, though was unable to express anything except the continuous cry that she repeatedly released directly into Sam's left ear.

After the stress of meeting with the ADA, Samantha was drained. She still hadn't fully recovered from her previous exhaustion and still felt very weary. Right now, a heady combination of caffeine and stress was keeping her alert but also shaky and irritable. The babies had been screeching non-stop for what seemed like hours, and Samantha couldn't take it anymore. Her head was pounding and her heart was racing from too much coffee.

"Victoria, stop! Just stop! Shut up!" Samantha screamed at the baby, her voice high and strident. Shocked into silence, both babies went quiet mid-cry. Samantha exhaled in relief for a millisecond. Two seconds later, Rose suddenly burst into hysterical crying- a by-product of fear. Victoria joined her sister in a chorus of terrified howling-the two babies were even louder than before.

"Oh shit, shit, shit, no, stop, both of you, just stop!" Sam cried. "I can't take it anymore!" She placed Victoria back in her bouncy chair, unable to stand the sound of her crying. "I can't do this anymore, no, no, no, no …" Samantha began backing away from her sisters, needing a breath of fresh air. She cranked up the volume on the television set, but the singing, purple dinosaur grated on her already overwrought nerves. Feeling caged and besieged, Samantha escaped out the front door and closed it behind her. Silence. Bird song. A car driving by. She took deep ragged breaths, and sat on the porch bench to calm her nerves.

Then, she stood up and walked to the end of the driveway. She looked up and down the street, taking in the bright sunshine, fresh suburban air and tranquillity. No sweaty, stinky, screaming babies or poopy diapers out here. She noticed the neighbour's tabby sauntering by. "Felix," she called out as she followed the cat and went to pet him. She was about two doors down from the house now. Petting the cat soothed her and when he unexpectedly took off at lightning speed, she felt a ridiculous need to pursue him. "Felix? Come back!" she called out. She chided herself for feeling rejected by a mere cat and turned around the other way, back toward the house. One foot on the driveway, one on the street-Sam felt indecisive. She stared down at her blue and white Keds on the asphalt—the sight of her feet surprised her as though they were alien attachments with a mind of their own. The mere thought of stepping back into that living room of hell made her heart beat fast again; she was agitated and beleaguered. "God, I can't take this anymore", she cried out to nobody.

She had a knot in her stomach and the lump in her throat made her swallow painfully. Sweat began to form on her upper lip and in the palms of her hands. In that instant, Samantha's world crashed down around her. The depression that had begun two years ago, which had never been diagnosed or treated was taking over. Had she known that she needed medical help, she might have had the presence of mind to seek it but all she knew now was the terrible sound of blood rushing through her ears and the relentless feeling of self-recrimination. She felt worthless and contemptible for having been hit by Kevin, yet too scared to testify against him. And for having made poor choices in the past like posing for those humiliating Raw Jeans ads, and for having slept with her step-brother when he was only sixteen. All the judgements against her slammed into her like a tidal wave of accusation, settling into the deepest recesses of her spirit. Combined with the certainty that she'd surely die of cancer at a young age, hopelessness enveloped her. "I'm pathetic", she whispered to the trees. Samantha felt doomed. She took a step away from the house, then another and another, until her feet were moving of their own accord, her will somehow subjugated by feelings of total worthlessness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony returned home from his errands to a blaring television and two snivelling babies. Rose was standing in her playpen, her face red from crying. "Saaaammm", she howled. Victoria was emitting a mewling noise, her voice raspy from overuse and hiccupping.

"Sam?" Tony called out. "Sam, where are you? I'm home." Perplexed, he picked up Victoria and took Rose out of her playpen. Both babies were wet and needed to be changed. "Sam? Are you in the bathroom? Why are the girls sitting in wet diapers?" he chastised. Having made his way upstairs with both babies, he searched the top floor. "Sam?" he called again. Tony began to feel the first prickling of fear. "Sam?!" He changed the wet diapers and stared incredulously into the empty bedrooms and bathrooms. Grabbing a baby in each arm, he bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Sam?" He couldn't believe she'd leave the babies all alone. He opened the back door and peered into the backyard, then checked the garage but it was obvious that Samantha was gone.

Debating what to do next, Tony phoned the most obvious places to find his eldest daughter; Bonnie's house, Mona's apartment, even Mrs. Rossini's. Unable to locate her, he began to panic. When Jonathan stepped through the front door and saw Tony pacing anxiously, he wondered what was up.

"Hey Tony."

"Oh thank goodness you're home, Jon. I need to go look for Sam. She just left … she left the babies here alone. I can't believe it!"

"What?" Tony's words felt like a sick punch to the gut. Jonathan hadn't warned his mother or Tony about Sam's increasingly odd behaviour, nor had he voiced his worries about leaving her alone with the girls. "She just abandoned them? Are they okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, but you have to stay with them. I'm gonna drive around and look for her. Her car is still in the driveway so she can't have gone far." Tony grabbed his keys and took off to look for his daughter.

An hour later, Tony returned home sans Sam. "I can't find her," he moaned. He'd been driving around the neighbourhood and beyond with no luck.

"Maybe you should call the police," Jonathan suggested. His mother had returned home during Tony's drive-about and she was becoming increasingly concerned as well.

"Maybe we should," Angela agreed. "This isn't like Samantha. I'm worried, Tony." Angela was still reeling from the knowledge that her two babies had been alone in the house. She wondered for how long and couldn't help imagining horrific scenarios of house fires, burglars, and other assorted mom-fears.

Guilt niggled at Jonathan. He felt terrible about not voicing his concerns beforehand. He wasn't sure what to do now, nor how much he should reveal, but worry for Sam's wellbeing won out.

"Mom, Tony, there's something I have to tell you," he began. "Um, Sam isn't … she isn't quite … um right. She's not okay and hasn't been for a while now."

"You mean because of Kevin and meeting with the ADA today?" Tony assumed, though the scared look on Jon's face spoke of something else.

"No, not just that. I mean … yesterday at the park, she didn't react when Rose ran off and hid behind the climbing wall. I couldn't find her for about half a minute and Sam didn't even help me look. She didn't care."

Tony and Angela looked at Jon, then at each other. "She didn't care?" Angela repeated, stunned.

"Well maybe that's 'cause she was so tired yesterday," Tony suggested. He knew he was making excuses but he couldn't imagine what else could be wrong with his headstrong, beautiful daughter.

Jonathan wasn't getting through to them. "It was more than tired, Tony. She was practically comatose … er, it started in the car on the way home, uh, the previous night," he shamefully admitted to them.

"Car? Home? From where? When was this?" Tony and Angela bombarded Jon with questions. Now, he had their attention.

Quietly now, so quietly that his mom and Tony had to strain to hear him, Jonathan continued. "We went out after Kevin left the other night. Sam and I needed some, uh, fresh air. But … oh god … I should have told you guys about this. She was acting kinda crazy. She stood on the edge of a cliff and was giddy about how close to death she was." He swallowed hard, unable to meet their eyes. "She, uh, stripped off her clothes to, uh, meet the moonlight because she had a beam of energy in her or something like that," he mumbled, unable to recall Sam's exact words.

"What?!" Tony and Angela both exclaimed in unison.

"Yeah, and then she fell asleep in the car and slept all day after. There's something wrong with her. I'm sorry for not saying anything, but I didn't think she'd run away and leave the babies alone in the house."

"Tony, I'm calling the police. And when they find her, she needs to go to the hospital. Jonathan, you should have told us! God, she could be anywhere!" Angela dialled 911 for the second time in three days, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked at Tony with tears in her eyes.

"Where's my little girl?" Tony asked, bewildered and afraid. "Why didn't you tell us something was wrong with her?" he angrily berated Jonathan.

"I … I didn't want to rat her out. I was going to observe her and ask her to see Dr. Bellows. Guys, please, I'm so sorry." Jonathan felt sick. Part of the reason for his silence had also been to hide his relationship with Samantha. He hadn't wanted their parents to know that they'd snuck out to _Make-Out Hill_ together.

"The police are on their way," Angela said. "Normally, you can't report a person missing before 24 hours but I explained the extenuating circumstances. When they find her, they're going to have her held for psychiatric evaluation," Angela explained, her voice grim.

Tony sat down; his legs felt weak. "But Angela, what if they don't find her? Where's my Samantha? Where?" Angela sat next to him and put her arms around him.

"We're going to get through this. They're going to find her and we're going to get her the help she needs."


End file.
